I take a moment to admire her. She’s wearing a sage green summer dress with white flowers, no makeup, and flats. My hands itch with the need to reach out to her, but through some miracle, I hold myself back.
“Hey,” I say, approaching her. “You’re still here.”
“Of course I’m here, Rowan,” she says in a hurt tone.
“I thought you were avoiding me,” I say.
“You asked for space, Ro. I’m trying really hard to stay away,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I needed to clear my head. Besides, I’m not the one who ended things,” I say. “You really hurt me.”
All the fight leaves her body at once as she slumps against the wall and blinks the moisture away from her eyes. “What will it take for me to fix this?”
“I don’t know, Mags,” I say, running a hand over my stubble.
“I’ll do anything, Ro,” she says. I let my hand drop and study her. She looks tired and just as unhappy as I am.
“I guess I just want you to fight for me,” I say, holding her eyes. They fill with tears and I force myself to look away. I’m not strong enough to do this right now. I’m saved a moment later when my phone rings. “It’s my coach. I need to head back,” I say, glancing up once more at her.
This time, the tears are gone and Maggie gives me a terse nod. “Of course, good luck out there.”
I advance to the finals,but the victory doesn’t feel sweet. I was one point from winning the entire match and had no confidence that I could do it. But then I thought about Maggie wishing me good luck and Jacob wanting me to win this for him, and I didn’t want to let them down.
I went through the motions of answering some interview questions and telling everyone how excited I am about the finals. When someone asked how I would celebrate the victory, all I could do was muster up a smile and try not to think about the fact that the love of my life was here avoiding me and one of my best friends was in the hospital.
With a box of pistachio macarons and “get well soon” balloons, I make my way to Jacob’s hospital room.
“Hey there, sunshine.” I grin, wiggling the box in my hand. Jacob’s lips twitch but that’s the only reaction I get. His eyes return to the tablet in his hands and his face is a hard mask of anger. “Whatcha watching?” I sing-song, trying to lighten the mood.
“How I managed to fuck up my entire career in the span of four seconds,” he says through gritted teeth.
I sigh and grab the tablet from his hands. I look at the video that’s stuck on loop and grimace. “Why would you torture yourself by looking at it?” I ask and put the tablet at the very edge of the side table. He could still reach it if he wanted to, but I’d rather he didn’t.
Jacob glares at me and the balloons in my hands. “What are you even doing here? Don’t you have to practice so you can win the tournament?”
I find a spot in the corner for the balloons and set them down. The room is dark and depressing so I walk around, opening the blinds and playing some light background music on his tablet. “Macaroon?” I ask, opening up the package and waving one in Jacob’s face.
He smacks it out of my hand and it lands on the floor with aplop. I sigh and bend down to pick it up, tossing it in the trash instead. “That was like 3 euros, man.”
I expect Jacob to laugh, or insult me, or something. I don’t expect him to start crying. He covers his face with his hands and starts sobbing. My feet take me closer to his bed and I wrap my arms around him as best as I can considering he’s propped up in a hospital bed and I’m standing.
“Let it out,” I say, patting his back. Jacob wraps his arms around my middle and sobs into my shirt. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re gonna be just fine. I promise.”
“I’m terrified I won’t ever play again,” he says eventually when his sobs turn to soft sniffles.
“Impossible. You’re one of the most determined people I know and you’ve already come back from it once. You can do it again,” I say, stepping back and sitting on the chair nearby.
“What if I can’t?” he asks miserably. “You don’t know how hard it was the first time around.”
“No, but what I do know is that you love this game with your whole heart. That’s going to be your fuel during rehabilitation.”
He sniffs and nods. “I’m sorry I threw the macaroon on the floor.”
My grin is huge as I open the box again, taking another out. I hold it out to him gingerly. “Do over?”
For the first time since getting injured, Jacob laughs. “Thanks, mate. You’re a better friend than I deserve.”
We eat our macaroons in silence, until Jacob asks around a mouthful, “How’s Maggie? I saw her briefly.”
