(2022 Winter special) I'm a pretty good skater.

“I’m not terrible.” You tell Astrid. "In fact, I'd say I'm a pretty good skater!"

“Is that an honest answer?” She looks at you as you both trail down towards the rink. Her gentle eyes drift to yours. “I don’t recall you skating that much at any point.”

“I’m a natural at it,” you reply. “I guess ice-skating isn’t something I’ve had to do a lot of, but I can do it. Were you there on my first date ever? We skated. My date taught me.”

Astrid steps into the rink and slips away from your grip. Without thinking, you follow her and begin skating. You look down, unaware that you even had skates on until just then. How long have you been wearing these? They fit perfectly!

You two slip and slide between the other skaters. She spins and twirls, indicating that she was much better than you were. You were able to keep up with her without breaking a sweat, but sometimes you just trailed her to watch. She looked happy as she skated and spun around. She glides behind you want to race.

“Race?”

“Yuh,” she says, making a slow and lazy circle around you. “One of the first people I ever had the pleasure of protecting was an excellent skater. She got gold in the Olympics.”

“Which Olympics?” you say, watching her still. Astrid smiled and reached for your hands, forcing you to follow her.

“Way back in the 1960s. In Squaw Valley,” Astrid said, perking at the thought of talking about skating. “She earned a silver medal in 1956.”

You watch Astrid's legs and feet as she glides effortlessly on the ice, even as she pulls you to follow her. Finally, you meet her gaze and ask. “You ever skate before that, or did this Olympian inspire you?”

Astrid smiles and then shrugs cutely. “I was OK before I started my watch over Carol Heiss. But, she was talented, and it did inspire me to practice. I ghosted her movements and followed her whenever she was on the ice. I copied her the best I could and tumbled a few times; pretending I was ice the skater everyone watching. I got butterflies and smiled, though, when the crowd cheered at the end. I waved at the crowed and watched the scoreboard.”

“Sometimes, I wonder what my life would have been like if I were mortal. I would have loved to compete and perform for whatever country God put me in.” Astrid looks at you. “But, then I guess I wouldn’t be here with you if that were the case.”

“How about you?” she ends. “What sport would have done?”

“Did they ever do pairs?” you ask. “Like…a boy and a girl skating at the same time?”

She nods.

“Well, if God would have allowed it,” you begin. “I would have liked to compete with you as my partner.”

Astrid slows and stares at you. “Oh, Warren.”

“I’m serious,” you smile at her. “I don’t know when couple skating-”

“Pair skating,” she quickly corrects.

“-pair skating first started, but if you and I were professional skaters, I would have done everything in my power to become your partner. We could have gotten medals together and performed for the world.”

Astrid puckers her lips, and her eyes become glossy. “Warren...”

“We would have world-famous,” you squeeze her hands and shoot out to the artificial giants looming the park, mimicking a news anchor’s voice. “Astrid and Warren Visser takes gold for a fourth executive year! Will they ever be stopped!?”

She starts to laugh. In the center of the rink, it’s just you two talking. “Oh, my gosh.”

“Then we,” your mind goes blink. The world without nuclear fire. A world where you lived an everyday life. A normal life without constant **** and blood money. It all seemed distant. You can’t fathom it, and it leaves you feeling dizzy. Everything around you was normal at one point. Cars. Couples. Skating and dating. You tried to continue, staring at the unbroken world around you. “Then we…we would have…have, uh…”

Astrid runs her thumb over your cheeks. You realize you’re crying. Your eyes sting, and you blink away the tears.

“Don’t,” Astrid says. Her eyes are puffy too. “It’s very kind of you to think like that, but it just wasn’t meant to be.”

She sniffs and straightens herself. A confident grin pushes back the frown that once threatens to take the form of her lips. A dozen skaters glide past you. They’re talking in a language you didn’t understand. You apologize, but Astrid rubs her forehead against yours. “How about that race? We still have plenty of time together.”

“What happens when one of us wins?”

She wipes the reminder of your tears away and studies you. “Let’s discuss that when we’re done. Are you ready?”