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love is the tuesdays

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Two years this summer

I knew it from the day I saw her

We were gonna be together

 

It’s been two years. 

Or maybe two decades? Scott’s not quite sure how timelines work when it comes to him and Tessa. It’s been over twenty years since a seven-year-old girl took the hand of a nine-year-old boy and changed his life forever. But it’s been two years since they made their partnership, well, more official. 

There were many bits and pieces of a relationship that they’ve had for a long time. The quiet intimacy, being able to ground themselves through the other person’s touch, the conversations both whispered and shouted, the knowing of the other person so wholly that you know they also have the power to break you. 

But you trust them not to.

And while they’ve had all those things, things he cherishes and has learned to never take for granted, there’s something sweeter when he’s able to kiss her whenever they want to, in any way they want to, without the need to hide behind the characters they play on the ice. 

There’s something sweeter about being able to tell her he loves her in exactly the way he means it. That he adores her as his best friend, yes, and he admires her as the woman she’s become and respects her as an athlete. But he loves being able to love her the way romance novels and movies describe, as his soulmate, his other half, his partner— and every other cliche in the book. To wrap his lips around those three words and give it to her as a present, pressed against the curve of her neck, the jut of her hipbone, against her own lips.

There’s something sweeter about being able to do all that knowing that she wants him to, that she loves him, too.

While he knows that she’s spent most of her life by his side, he wants to ask her if she’d allow him to spend the rest of his life by hers.

So I’m asking for your blessin’

And maybe just one lesson

 

He sits in the front seat of his car, hands balled into fists and resting on his thighs. He looks over at the worn, white wooden door of the house he’s stopped in front of. He thinks of the two people inside who he’s asked to talk to, people who he’s known for a really long time but the topic of conversation, while not unpleasant , not by any means, is extremely nerve-wracking.

He’s pretty sure that Kate and Jordan like him, but what if today’s the day they decide to change their minds. What if today’s the day they decide he’s not good enough?

He’s this close to turning the engine back on and hightailing it out of there, but then he thinks of Tessa. He thinks of the little velvet box sitting in his sock drawer. 

(He’s certain she’s seen it too, but he doesn’t mind. He’d much rather they be on the same page, would prefer that she know of his plans so they can have an honest conversation if this isn’t the direction she’d be comfortable with their relationship going, at least, not yet.

They’ve had a few honest conversations about the future anyway without the little velvet box inside his drawer being the catalyst. They’ve discussed marriage and family and how that’ll fit in with their careers in the future.

He still remembers the kiss she’d pressed against his mouth when he’d tentatively broached the idea of him maybe proposing to her one day, if she’d like?

The hammering of his heart that day rivals the way his heart is going so fast now, but he’d made himself hold his gaze with hers, not wanting to let his eyes dart around.

The gentle kiss she’d given him was a comfort first, meant to ground and calm him, but it became an answer in the next moment.

Yes,’ she’d whispered. ‘There’s only one answer I’d want to give, Scott. When you’re ready. When you ask.

He already had the ring, was tempted to stride to the drawer to give it to her, but he’d waited. It didn’t feel like the right time, and while he knew Tessa didn’t need (or want) anything big or showy for a proposal, he wanted to do it right. He wanted to make an effort, to put a lot of thought into it, to make it something uniquely them, a story he’d happily tell to their kids one day, while she shakes her head fondly at his enthusiastic recount.)

He thinks of seeing the ring on her left hand, the one he picked out because it reminded him so much of her, simple yet elegant, beautiful without the need to be showy. Her wearing the ring will not and will never be about possession, will never be about marking her as his. But for her to wear the ring he picked out for her would mean so much to him because it’s a sign of his love for her, her love for him, their willingness to trust in each other. 

It’s not a sign of belonging to each other so much as a sign of belonging with each other.

He walks up the path to the front of the house, up the steps to the front door and raises his fist to knock. He lets out a slow breath and knocks evenly three times.

He doesn’t have to wait long until the door opens and he’s face to face with Kate Virtue. 

“Scott.”

“Hi Kate.” His hands feel woefully empty. Should he have brought flowers? This feels like the occasion to bring flowers. He barely stops himself from opening and closing his hands into fists.

She smiles warmly at him and steps aside to allow him inside her house. He follows her down the familiar hallway, walking past all the photographs of the Virtue kids in varying ages and the vases that always have fresh flowers, and into the living room. He finds Jordan sitting on the sofa.

“Scott.”

“Hi Jordan.” He’s sure he’s sweating profusely now. 

Kate gestures to the armchair opposite where Jordan is sitting. “Have a seat, Scott.” She takes a seat next to her eldest daughter. Both of them look at him expectantly. He feels like he’s sitting in front of a jury. Or in a principal’s office.

Scott sits down, closer to the edge of the seat than the back of the chair. He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees, his palms meeting in front of him. He clears his throat.

“So, there’s something I want to talk to you both about,” he begins. He’s proud of the way his voice has stayed mostly even, and he makes sure to look both Kate and Jordan in the eye.

“I want to ask Tess to marry me.”

For all his nerves in the lead-up to this conversation, they dissipate the moment he utters that sentence. There are a lot of uncertainties in life but his love for Tessa is not one of them.

Both Kate and Jordan break into wide grins. Kate’s a little teary as she stands up and moves around the coffee table to hug him. “Scott, that’s wonderful.”

“About time,” Jordan chimes in, her grin toothy and the tiniest bit sharkish. She comes around to give him a hug as well. “You know the deal, right? If you hurt her, we’ll come for you, yadda, yadda…”

Scott notices that Jordan’s eyes are also a little damp, but he doesn’t comment.

He presses the heel of his hand to his own eyes, rubbing away his own tears. “So...you’re both okay with it?” His voice cracks from how wide he’s smiling.

“You make Tessa happy,” Kate acknowledges. “A mom can’t ask for much more for her daughter.” Scott can’t help but beam at that. It’s something he wants to be able to do for the rest of his life.

“Thank you,” he says to both women.

“Just always remember to talk to each other and to never forget to tell her and show her how much you love her,” Kate says, smiling softly.

“I’ll remember,” Scott promises.

(He finds that the conversations with Tessa’s brothers weren’t as nerve-wracking. Kevin had even sounded confused when Scott told him of his plans.

“Scotty,” Kevin had said, “I thought you’d already proposed?”)

It’s not just picture perfect dancing in a white dress

 

Given the fact that he and Tessa must have done at least a thousand dances by this point, one would think that they’d be tired of dancing with each other. Given the fact that he and Tessa have performed dances that are more artistically choreographed, that they’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into and spent hours to perfect, one would think that he prefers those.

But this dance with her, right now, is probably his favourite. She’s got her head pressed against his chest, looking up at him with her green eyes. He’s got an arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding her hand in a dance hold, although their fingers are tangled together. 

Strands of her hair are falling from her intricate updo, and from this close he can see the light creases in her make-up. 

She’s never looked more beautiful. 

He can’t resist leaning down the tiny gap in between them to kiss her, just lightly, because they’re still surrounded by friends and family.

He’d gotten rid of his coat a while back, as well as his tie, his top button unbuttoned. He shifts his hand that’s holding Tessa’s waist the tiniest bit, pulling her closer, his thumb rubbing the white fabric back and forth.

He thinks back to earlier that day, the first moment when he saw Tessa at the end of the aisle, utterly breathtaking in her white dress. He’s not ashamed to admit that he started tearing up from that moment, that at least one tear streaked down his cheek as she walked toward him, or that he had to pause several times during his vows because of how choked up he’d gotten.

Tessa had held onto his hands the whole way, squeezing gently to reassure him, to ground him. Her eyes never wavered from his.

He feels dampness at the edges of his eyes again, thinking about how lucky he is to be with her.

Tessa notices, she always does, and the hand on his shoulder moves to rest against the side of his face, her thumb catching his tears. “Scott.”

He breathes in once, a noisy sniffle. “I love you, T.”

“I love you too.” She rises up on her tiptoes to kiss him, lingering a little longer.

It’s not just rainy days when nothing stops the fighting

 

He stares at the ceiling, watching the shadows skate across the white surface from the movement of the trees outside the window. The storm is loud, the rain falling in hard thuds on the slates of the roof and against the glass of the windowpane.

He shifts slightly, hitting the back of the couch with his knee.

It’s not like he doesn’t remember what led to him being here. He just can’t remember what the breaking point was in his conversation with Tessa. He can’t pinpoint the moment where the conversation turned from something to discuss to something she couldn’t bear to talk about, Tessa retreating into their bedroom and shutting the door with a definitive click.

There wasn’t any shouting, no cacophony of voices rising on top of one another that would rival the storm raging outside.

He’d come home from work intent to share his news with her. He’d been offered a more senior coaching position, but it involved a long-term relocation. While the opportunity was great, he was leaning towards not taking it because he’s not keen on moving away, especially since he and Tess had just settled into their new home.

Regardless, he felt it was important to tell it to Tessa. He knows that keeping anything from each other would lead to problems. He’d started talking about the position he’d been offered, and had mentioned the relocation it needed. He was about to say that he knew it wouldn’t be the best decision for the two of them at this point of their lives but he’d noticed that Tessa had visibly clammed up.

He’d tried asking her what was wrong, but she hadn’t wanted to say. He’d pressed harder but Tessa snapped at him to leave it alone, Scott .

She’d walked away then, to their bedroom. He was about to rush after her but had thought at that moment that it was better to give her space.

His sleep has been light and restless. He knows it’s not from any discomfort from sleeping on the couch. Tessa had picked a very comfortable couch when they were furniture shopping. Rather, he knows it’s because he’s gotten used to sleeping wrapped around Tessa, hearing her breathing.

He wishes he’d asked to talk to her, waited outside their bedroom door, instead of immediately giving her space. He was so scared of saying the wrong thing that he ended up doing the wrong thing anyway.

He thinks of a piece of advice his dad had given him. Son, make sure you never go to bed angry at each other, alright? Make sure to always talk to each other.

Well, he’s failed on that front.

Once he sees light begin to peek through the window, he gets up and pads to the kitchen. He starts up the coffee machine, yawning. It’s become a routine now, making Tessa’s coffee. Usually, by the time he’s done, Tessa’s wandered into the kitchen half-asleep, pressing a kiss to his lips as she takes her mug from him.

He turns around and she’s not there.

He takes the mug and a saucer and walks up to their bedroom. The door is still shut. He places the saucer down lightly, the mug on top of it in front of their door, slightly to the side so she doesn’t trip over it. He sits down beside their door, leaning on the wall. He feels his eyes close.

He opens his eyes to the sound of Tessa saying his name.

She’s looking at the coffee. Half-conscious, he wonders if he should have probably waited until she woke up to make the coffee because it’s probably gone cold by now. He’s not sure how long it’s been sitting there for.

She’s looking at him now. In the next moment, he finds himself an armful of Tessa. She’s crying against his neck.

“I’m sorry, Scott,” she hiccups. “I was—I was so selfish last night. I always want to support you and I didn’t when you told me about your new job...I’ll be better, I promise. I always want to see you succeed.”

Scott can’t help but feel like there’s something else but he addresses Tessa first. “I forgive you, Tess. I won’t lie, it hurt when you shut me out like that...but I’m sorry too. I should have worked harder to talk to you. And I was about to tell you that I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to accept the job anyway. It’s a good opportunity, but there’ll be other ones, I’m sure. We’ve just settled in our new home, plus I don’t want to leave my teams. I feel like we’ve just started to really figure out how to work with each other.”

“Oh,” Tessa murmurs. “Scott, I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

He pauses for a while, listening to the sound of their breathing. 

“And Scott…” Tessa begins, “there was something I needed to tell you as well, when you got home. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but I just started overthinking and my thoughts were a mess and I got scared that you’d move on your own and leave us and I wouldn’t have you with me—”

Scott startles, “Wait…’us’?”

Tessa reaches for his hands and places them on her still-flat stomach, “Yeah, us.”

The sun rises in a cloudless sky when he leans forward to kiss her, gratitude on his lips. When he leans back, forehead still pressed against hers, golden light shines behind her head like a halo.

I’ve come to know that love’s not only the best days

Or the worst days

Love is the Tuesdays

 

When he finds it, the Tuesday had started out like any other day. He had left Tessa that morning with a peck on her lips, rushing out the door. She’d chuckled at his haphazard state, shouting ‘Shoes!’ as he nearly left their home in just his socks.

What would he do without her?

He’d actually been having a trying day with one of his junior teams. He couldn’t figure out exactly what wasn’t working with one of their lifts. The mechanics of it was mostly right but there was something that snagged at the exit, something that could be made smoother. The poor kids were getting frustrated as well, so he’d called for a break. He’d thought getting a breather would help sort his thoughts in order.

He’d opened his bag idly, toying with the zipper, when he finds the white envelope, a little creased at the corners because of being in his bag. 

He opens it and takes the card out.

The front of the card has a picture of a ballerina and a hockey player. He reads the message, 

 

Scott,

Hope you’re having a great day! Just letting you know I’m always thinking of you

Love,

T

P.S. How cute is the front of the card?? I found it on Etsy and knew I needed to buy it because it reminded me of us...though I’m pretty sure it actually is based off of us! Thanks for a lifetime of memories, my love. I’ll see you when you get home.

 

A random Tuesday thinking-of-you card could not have come at a better moment. He can clearly picture the smile she’d give him with the card, the soft one, the one just for him. It clears his thoughts, makes his chest feel lighter, makes him feel more equipped to tackle problem he has.

He doesn’t end up figuring out exactly what was wrong with the lift and he spends the rest of the day working on other parts of the program, but he gets his pair to do the lift again as he records it on his phone so he can show it to Tessa. He’s sure she can figure out what’s not working.

When he opens their door to their home, he can hear Tessa’s singing, endearingly slightly off-pitch. Not that he can talk in that department. He and Tessa both know their talents have always lain elsewhere.

He walks into their kitchen to find Tessa cooking, which is something she’s been determinedly working on. She’s dressed in a loose T-shirt and sleep shorts, her hair thrown up in a messy bun. She turns around once he’s been staring a while.

“You gonna stare any longer, Moir?” she asks cheekily, sticking her hip out as she props her hand on it. She waves the spatula in his direction.

His eyes catch on the gentle bump of her stomach as she turns around. “For as long as you’ll let me,” he jokes back, coming forward to kiss her. “Hi,” he says when he pulls back, his hands dropping onto the curve of her stomach.

“Hi to you too. How was work today? How were your teams?” She asks, turning back to the stove. He loves this part of their day, the simple domesticity of it, the talking of everything that should be mundane but it’s not because it’s his life with Tessa.

He shakes his head a little, describing the difficulties he’d been facing with one of his juniors. He tells her about the video he recorded that he wanted to show her because he thought she’d be able to help him.

She touches the crease between his brows, reminding him to relax. “Show me,” she says.

Once she’s seen the video she points out that the speed and the angle weren’t working together. “Either you need to speed it up, or change the angle she’s exiting. The way you’ve got it right now isn’t working. One of them’s got to give.”

He takes a moment to take in her razor-sharp focus on the shaky video he’s managed to take on his phone, the way the gears in her head have whirred to figure out exactly what was going wrong. He kisses her temple. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She leans more into his touch, “I don’t mind being reminded once in a while,” she winks, “but thank you.”

“What about you? How was work? Have you been feeling okay?” His eyes are serious and concerned.

“Yeah. My back’s starting to hurt a little, though,” she winces. He shifts his palms towards her back, gently, carefully, not wanting to do anything that would hurt her.

“I’ll give you a massage, yeah? You prefer it now or later?”

“Later, please, after dinner.” Her eyes sparkle in mischief, “I can also think of other places where I’d want your hands on me…”

He feels himself physically react to that. “Tess,” he says into her neck, dragging out the syllable of her nickname. He feels her laugh against him. 

He drags his mouth to her earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. “Play nice.” His voice comes out as a soft growl against her ear. He both feels and hears Tessa’s gasp.

“Okay, I changed my mind. Massage now, please.” Tessa turns off the stove before she wraps her arms around his neck.

He laughs at her abrupt change of mind, and he’s still laughing as he carries her to their bedroom.

“I love you, you know?” he whispers, setting her down on their bed.

“Yeah, I know,” her smile balances between minx and innocence, her hand on his chest, just above his beating heart. The one that beats for her. “I love you too.”

It’s breakfast thrown together

While she’s sleeping in your high school sweater

And you’ve never seen anything better

 

He doesn’t think he remembers what a full night’s sleep feels like, but he’d go through less if only so that Tessa can sleep for a little longer. Not that she would want to, he’s come to learn. She’s determined to be the best mom she can be to little Sammy.

God, when he thinks back to holding his son for the first time...he still can’t find the words to describe it. Tessa had nearly broken his hand and his heart still hurts a little when thinking at how much pain she had been through, but the first moment he was able to hold Sammy in his arms, it felt like the world shifted. 

He remembers walking through the hospital corridor to let their family know of the news and seeing all these people who were just going about their lives and it felt surreal that his own life had changed completely. He’s a father.

He yawns into his shoulder, carefully flipping a pancake. Sammy had finally slept for more than a few hours, and that meant Tessa could go to sleep as well. She was out like a light the moment she fell on their bed. He had pulled the covers over her, kissed her forehead, checked on Sammy one last time, before going to sleep himself.

He’d woken up early to make them both breakfast.

“Scott?” Tessa’s sleepy voice accompanies the soft pad of her footsteps as she wanders into their kitchen.

“T, I thought you’d still be asleep,” he thinks the tone of his voice is both concerned and fond. She walks up to him, hugging him from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.

“Missed you,” she sighs, muffled by the fabric of his T-shirt, “and Sammy. But he’s still asleep, thankfully.”

She’s got his hockey jersey on, the one he got from that Leafs game where they both actually got their own personalised ones, but Tessa prefers to wear his. It swallows her petite frame in the most adorable way, but if he’s being honest, it’s the way his name is emblazoned across her back that’s his favourite part.

He’ll swear up and down that he’s not a caveman (although Tessa will probably snort and laugh with a ‘Yeah, right’ attached), there’s something deliciously primal about seeing her in his jersey. To him, it’s like her proudly saying she chose him, and she keeps on choosing him, everyday.

“Pancakes are nearly ready,” he presses his nose to the crown of her head. “You wanna take a seat at the island?”

She holds on a little longer and then wanders over to take a seat at one of the barstools. She leans her head on one propped arm, watching him. He takes the stack over, grabbing the punnet of berries from the fridge after, as well as some butter and maple syrup.

“Wow, going all out this morning?” her eyes widen as a grin spreads on her face.

“Yeah,” he nods, “you deserve it. You’ve been such a champ. You’re a spectacular mom.”

Tessa blushes, averting her eyes down towards the pancakes. She’s got a fork in her hand but she hasn’t started eating.

“Hey,” he tilts her chin up gently, “I mean it.”

“You too, Scott. You’re an awesome dad,” she says. “And an awesome husband,” she adds as she tucks into her pancakes. “I love you,” she sighs happily. Whether it’s to him or to the pancakes, he’s not sure.

He chuckles instead, dropping a kiss to her nose.

“Scott,” her green eyes look straight at him, “I love you.”

“Love you too, T. Always.” He steals the bit of pancake that’s sitting on her fork, earning him a swat on the shoulder and the sound of his favourite laugh.

It’s the season three you’re watchin’

 

“Tess,” Scott whispers, “what season of the Octonauts are we up to?” Sammy’s snuggled between them, his sweet laughter bouncing around the room as he’s watching his favourite TV show. The three of them are sitting on their couch, letting Sammy choose what to watch as a reward for being brave and going to the doctor’s.

Not surprisingly, he picks the same show that he’s been watching for the past several weeks. He and Tessa have decided to limit the amount of screen time Sammy has and only let him watch two episodes maximum at a time. 

“Umm…” Tessa has to stop to think, “probably the third? I’m not sure.”

“Tess,” Scott leans closer to her ear, “how many more episodes are there?”

“I think there’s six series?”

“Six?!”

Tessa pecks his cheek. “You know you love it. Look, they’re about to run into the Yeti Crab.”

Scott whips his head back to the TV screen. “The what?” 

At that moment, Sammy pats his chest, pointing towards the TV. “Look, Daddy, crab!”

His heart melts as he looks at his son’s excited face. “Yeah, that’s right, a crab,” he nods.

Sammy grins toothily at him. “Play outside, later please?” His voice slightly lisps at the ‘s’ sound in ‘please’.

“Sure thing, bud.” He hugs his son closer, pressing a kiss to his hair. 

When he looks up, Tessa’s smiling at them. She joins their hug, murmuring, “My two boys.” It’s in moments like these that it strikes Scott how incredibly lucky he is. It’s hard in the day to day to remember that one hundred percent of the time, but he’ll never take this for granted. His family.

A little bit of evenin’ walkin’

 

He and Tessa have dropped Sammy off at Alma and Joe’s house for some grandparent bonding time, at their persistent request. He knows it’s also so that he and Tessa are able to have time where it’s just the two of them.

They’re out for an early evening stroll, the sun not quite set below the horizon, peeking out enough that the sky is streaked with pinks and oranges. The air is cool and crisp against his skin, the trees along the footpath turning golden.

His hand is in Tessa’s.

She tugs his hand, leading him up to the crest of a hill just as the sunset is at its most glorious. It’s a masterpiece against the canvas of the sky, breathtaking in the way the colours blend together.

“It’s so beautiful,” Tessa breathes.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s not looking at the sunset though.

The moment Tessa realises this, she blushes. “You’re a sap,” she teases.

“I’m your sap,” he replies, tugging her close so her head fits in the crook of his neck, to the side of his chin.

“Scott,” Tessa says. Scott can tell it prefaces something she wants to tell him. “I was just thinking, Sammy’s getting bigger now...and I think I want to start trying again. Give Sammy a little brother or sister.”

Scott looks at her in surprise, “Tess, you’re sure?”

“Yeah,” her eyes are alight, both from happiness and the reflection of the colours of the sunset in front of them.

He can’t help but kiss her then, one of his hands burying in her dark tresses, the other pressed between her shoulder blades. He loves the way she responds immediately to his touch, the way her body curves and molds the planes of his. 

She deepens the kiss, a needy moan escaping her throat. His hands slip under the fabric of her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin, one of them moving up her back, his thumb grazing towards her chest. 

(It'll be years later at a Virtue-Moir joint family gathering, when the topic in the tipsy conversation between all the siblings jokingly veers to places where their children were conceived. When someone brings up Christine, his and Tessa’s little daughter, they’ll catch each other's eye, blushing the same shade of pink as the memory of that sunset sky.) 

And sittin’ with your best friend talkin’

 

He’s got his head in her lap while her fingers run and twist through the strands of his hair. It’s a lazy Sunday morning and Tessa’s sitting against the couch in their living room while Sammy and Christine are playing with blocks on a mat in the centre of the room. Sammy builds the tower as high as he can make it for Christine to knock down with her chubby little fists, giggling. His baby girl’s laughter sparkles like diamonds and he treasures it so much. He’s so proud of his little boy for being an awesome big brother.

“Ever thought we’d be here T?” Scott muses, closing his eyes. He’ll never get tired of how good it feels to have Tessa run her fingers through his hair.

“I’m not sure little Tessa knew what she was signing up for when she first took your hand, no,” she laughs.

“Well, little Scott didn’t know he’d fall in love with and marry his best friend either.”

“Hey, you said I’m your best friend!” Tessa crows triumphantly. Then the rest of his sentence must register in her mind because she smiles softly.

He’s suddenly hit by an overwhelming sense of love for these people who mean the most to him, his family. He catches Tessa’s free hand and brings the inside of her wrist against his lips.

“Tess, thank you,” he says hoarsely.

She looks at him quizzically, a question in her eyes. What for?

“For our family,” he answers, “for the life we’ve got together. Thank you for giving that to me.”

He watches Tessa tuck in her bottom lip. He knows what that means, what she’s trying not to do.

“It’s what you’ve given me too, Scott. Thank you. For everything.”

No, it’s not Hollywood's sign

Cause troubles will come

But it’s the best decision you’re ever gonna make

 

The question comes in the middle of an interview the two of them had agreed to do in the lead-up to the next Olympic games that was taking place in Canada. He’s thankful for the interviewer, to be honest, because the questions have focused more on their athletic career instead of anything personal. He and Tessa are more comfortable bringing up small anecdotes about their marriage and their family when they’re not cornered into doing so.

They’ve reminisced on childhood memories, remembered the hardships they’ve both had to go through and rehashed all three of their Olympic experiences, particularly the victory of Pyeongchang.

The interviewer comments that deciding to do their comeback must have been the best decision the two of them have made.

Scott pauses. He sees Tessa pause too. He feels her draw small circles on the back of his hand. 

“Umm…” he smiles sheepishly. He looks over at Tessa, asking her a question with his eyes. Can I say something sappy?

She rolls her eyes fondly, but her smile lets him know that if he really must, she’ll let him.

“The best decision I’ve ever made was loving Tessa. She and our kids are the best part of my life.”

He shoots her a grin, expecting a teasing reprimand, but her expression is soft and awed. She leans into his shoulder, pressing a kiss there.

Later that night, she whispers it as they’re about to fall asleep, both of them exhausted because Christine took some effort to get into bed. She’s propped up against his chest, looking down into his eyes.

“Scott, loving you...it’s the best decision I’ve ever made, too.”

 

Yeah, love is the Tuesdays.