“That was never my choice,” he says, squeezing my hand.
I chew on my bottom lip and take in everything he’s telling me, reshaping the memories I have of my high school days and giving them new meaning. Every fight they had, every article I read, it all makes so much sense now. I blamed my dad for the divorce, when really my mom was the culprit all along. “I’m so sorry,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand back.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have let so much time get between us. I shouldn’t have let my pride get in the way of telling you all this sooner either. For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you,pi?cot.”
A tear drops to the table and I stare at it, my visionbecoming more blurry. Isn’t this everything I’ve always wanted to hear? And yet, why don’t I feel like jumping up and down in joy?
You know why.The voice in the back of my head tells me.It’s because you’ve fucked everything up with Rowan.All he wanted was for us to be together and I’ve constantly made him feel unwanted, even if it wasn’t my intention. He told all his friends about me. He told his mom and my sister. I was too scared of what our relationship could turn into if I told anyone.
Rowan has always been there. A constant ray of sunshine in my life. And I pushed him away. I’m such a fucking coward.
“I was skeptical of Rowan at first,” my dad says, sensing the shift in my thoughts.
“Why?” I ask, wiping my tears away.
“Boys are boys, and when you brought him home the first time, I thought he was just like any other twenty something year old. Chasing fame and money, but—he surprised me. Do you remember when we fought about you going pro and I thought you weren’t ready?”
I snort. “I wasn’t ready. You were right,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Rowan overheard us having that fight and found me later. You know what he said to me? He told me he’d never seen anyone more talented or more determined than you,” Dad says, his lips twitching. “He told me I had no idea how incredible my own daughter was and how much I was disappointing her.”
The laugh that comes out of my mouth is strained and I blink back more tears. Of course my incredible, thoughtful, wonderful best friend would tell off my dad. “He never told me that,” I say, shaking my head. My hands inch closer to my phone and I’m dying to call him.
“I see the way you two are together. It’s a special bond, one that can’t be broken by some piss poor articles in the media,”Dad says, waving his hand around like he’s swatting at those reporters.
“I really hurt his feelings, Dad. I let him go and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“You start by getting ready for the French Open, then show up for his final match. Even when it’s hard, even if he doesn’t think he wants you there. I know he needs you. If you want to avoid making the same mistakes as me,” he says, taking a ragged breath, “then show up.”
“Thanks Dad.” I break my composure and tackle him in a hug. “I really missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he says, patting my hair.
CHAPTER 30
Rowan
May - French Open
I stareat the message I sent Maggie three weeks ago.
I don’t know where we go from here, Mags, but I need some space to think it all through.
Her reply came a few days later.
Let me know when you’re ready to talk.
I spent my time with Jacob in London, trying to come up with a plan, any plan, to get Maggie back. And yet, every time I reached for my phone to contact her, our last conversation flitted back to mind.
I was going to end it. I was going to end the agreement.
All I’ve wanted this past week is to go out on the practice courts and find her. I want to tell her how much I love her, how I would shield her from anything that comes our way. But Iknow she wouldn’t want that, and the last thing I want to do is mess with her head right before an important tournament. I’ve been chasing her for the last ten years, and look where that’s gotten me.
Alone at the French Open.
Practice with my coach is…fine. Through the haze of it all, I’ve worked hard and managed to make it to the semi-finals, except, I don’t feel motivated to win this. I don’t even want to be here. I tell Jacob as much when we meet at the hotel bar.
“Mate, you need to snap out of it,” he says, smacking the sticky bar with his palm. I lift an eyebrow at his outburst and he bites his cheek. “Sorry, it’s just”—he runs a hand through his thick black hair—“I hate seeing you so down. I know you love her, and I know it’s hard right now, but you two will figure this out.”
