A moment later after that, her coach appeared at the door, and he ushered her out gently, already on the phone arranging extra security, making sure she was escorted back to her own room this time: locked, guarded, and safe.
Now I’m here with Bobby, begging him to help me.
“I don’t want to lose her, Bobby. Not like this. Not ever.” I admitted, voice raw.
“Then you wait,” Bobby said firmly. “You give her space, you prove with actions, not panic. She’s jet-lagged, she’s hurt, and she’s human.”
His hand landed solid on my shoulder. “So stop thinking about what you can’t control and start focusing on what you can, show her you’re worth the second chance when she’s ready to hear it.”
I sat there in silence for a beat, my chest rising and falling too fast, until I finally nodded. “You’re right. If I chase her down now, I’ll just make it worse.”
Bobby exhaled, like he’d been holding that breath for me. “You need to give her time, Alex. She flew halfway across the world for you, she’s exhausted, and she’s hurt. Let her breathe.”
I dragged my hands down my face, frustration burning, but deep down I knew he was right. “I hate this. I hate not fixing it now.”
“That’s why I’m calling your mom,” Bobby said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “You don’t need to be alone with this spiral. You need her.”
“Bobby—”
“No. Enough. You’re carrying too much on your own, and it’s breaking you. You need someone who won’t let you keep burning yourself down.”
I slumped back against the couch, the fight leaving me all at once.
“Fine.”
CHAPTER 31
OLIVIA
After what I saw with Alex and Cassandra, the charming, easy version of me the tour liked to smile at quietly disappeared. On the dew-slick grass before sunrise, I trained like it was the only thing keeping me upright and every racquet swing a decision to feelnothing.
I needed to lock in. I couldn’t afford heartbreak bleeding into my timing. So I leaned into something colder, more exacting. Pain dressed up as discipline. What I was really doing was turning hurt into something usable, until the only place it was allowed to exist was strung tight across my racquet.
Practice wrapped, and I was already reaching for my bag when Maddie stepped in front of me.
“Liv,” she said, low enough that the others couldn’t hear. “You can’t keep pretending this is just about tennis.”
“I’m fine. Just locked in.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re hurting, and you’re using training to bleed it out. But you’re not a machine.”
I straightened, forcing the cool mask back on. “I don’t have the luxury of feelings right now.”
Her voice softened. “Just… don’t lose yourself trying to outrun the pain.”
I wanted to answer, to tell her she was wrong, or maybe that she was too right, but before I could, my phone buzzed in the side pocket of my bag.
My sister. I hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Maddie gave me a quiet nod, stepping back and giving me space.
“Liv?” Bianca’s voice was soft but steady, the way she always spoke when she was worried.
“Hey,” I said, though my throat felt tight.
“You sound… tired,” she said gently. “Are you okay? I’ve seen the clips online, you’re training like there's no tomorrow.”
I pressed my eyes shut, jaw clenched. “I’m fine. I have to be.”
A pause, then her voice cracked just slightly. “You don’t have to destroy yourself to prove you’re strong. You’ve already proven it a hundred times.”
