“Why did you bring her?” I asked. “Why would you take her to the beach house?”
Henrik’s expression shifted, more thoughtful now, less guarded.
“Because we’re still friends,” he said after a moment. “And I wanted you all to get to know her. Not just the version of her on court. I know she can be... intense. But she’s good, Inés. You’ve seen it too, haven’t you?”
I had seen it—small, quiet moments where something softerpeeked through. A joke, a shared look, an apology murmured under her breath.
Henrik kept going. “Her parents are tough. Always have been. She’s used to being pushed hard. I thought if she had a chance to be around people who didn’t expect something from her all the time, it might help.”
I exhaled slowly. “That makes sense,” I admitted. Because I had expected something from her too. “And you’re okay? With the breakup?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I promise, between us, Chloe and I weren’t a serious relationship.”
His words soothed my worries a little. Throughout our friendship, I’d never known him to be in a big relationship, always preferring one-night stands to girlfriends. Chloe had been different, and considering who she was to me, it had scared me.
We reached the players’ area. He turned to the courts, pausing before stepping through the gate.
“Hey,” he said. “You’ve got this today.”
I nodded, managing a smile. “Yeah. So do you.”
But as he disappeared into the court, I stayed frozen outside the fence, feeling the weight of too many shifting things pressing against my chest.
16
Inés
HOT TO GO!—Chappell Roan
Bailey & Sinclair vs Murphy & Costa
Final
“What the hell are you thinking with that call?” Chloe called out, her sights set on the umpire as she stormed towards her.
The final had been going well enough; the first set had gone to Scottie and Dylan after a fierce tie break, but deep into the second set, we were neck and neck at 5–5, and I could see the tension beginning to crack Chloe.
“That ball was clearly out,” she persisted, before pointing towards the crowd. “Ask anyone here, they’ll agree. Your line judge needs to get his eyesight checked.”
I swallowed down my frustration towards her, stepping closer. “Chloe?”
She glanced over her shoulder at me, and the frustration across her face was clear. We’d all felt that rage at a call we thought was off, and in a bigger tournament, we had the Hawk-Eye to judge the calls. But here, we had to rely on human judgement.
“Calm down,”I mouthed, but before she had a chance to take myadvice, the umpire’s voice boomed through the microphone. “Code violation for Murphy, verbal abuse—warning.”
She turned around as if to further argue with the umpire. I knew that everything we’d fought for would be for nothing if she didn’t calm down. The last thing we needed was a point deduction.
I intercepted her before she could react, a hand pulling on her shoulder.
“Hey, you need to take a breath.” Deciding to use a tactic I’d learned from my father. “Look... count on your inhale with me.”
“Breathing isn’t going to change shit, Inés.”
“Maybe not, but remember where we are. This isn’t some big Grand Slam.It’s acharity event.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her gaze as unrelenting as she was on the court. Today, she had upheld her side of the promise: she had let me play as much as her, treating me with respect when she had something to say, and accepting my advice with little argument.
It was like she had undergone a personality transplant overnight, but hey, whatever worked.
