"Oh goodness, no you will not," I tell him, wiping a hand furiously across my eye as I pull away to drop down onto the couch again, staring at the box. "I haven't been able to really practice in over a year. You can see me when I might not make an absolute fool of myself. I'm not sure my muscles even work properly any more and I'm not nearly as flexible as I used to be."

It's occurred to me that here, in this place, I could start practicing again. There's no scholarship to worry about, no Coach. I really could just... take up figure skating again. There's nothing to stop me.

Nothing but me.

I rub at my face again, rough as I suck in a breath, and quickly push up to my feet. "Do you want your last one now?" I ask, heading for the kitchen. There's still a part of me that wants to cry, but I'm not gonna do it here. Not in front of Derek of all people. "It obviously won't come even close to being as amazing as what you've given me, but I hope you like it. It's a special recipe."