We all grinned towards him, everyone holding out their flutes, me with my fruit juice, into the middle of the table. I felt a little emotional as I raised my glass, as if I’d been waiting for this for too long, a relaxed moment with my team.
“To Inés.” Selene grinned, a repeating chorus following her words. Everyone cheered, glasses meeting in the middle as Zackary captured the moment.
“Thanks, guys.” I smiled gratefully.
Before, this breakfast used to be more of a strategy meeting, but today it felt lighter. My team had been fantastic, loyal through the tough times, and even though we were only three days into the competition, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful for the rest of the year.
“How has the wrist been feeling today?” Maya, my physio, asked from across the table, her dark eyes lingering on my arm.
“It’s fine.” I smiled. “I’m doing my exercises.” I was beginning to get really hopeful that my injury days were well and truly behind me. The doctor had said that if I did the exercises and wore the splint after every training session and match, I would see a vast improvement, and as it turned out, so far he had been right.
“I really appreciate the work you’ve all been doing,” I said. “Thanks to all your effort, I’m feeling much more prepared for this string of competitions, and I’m hoping that we can only improve with every day.”
Everyone mumbled in agreement just as waiters appeared with dishes of assorted brunch items, handing out the orders.
Since it was my day off between rounds, I’d ordered the tortilla. The second I’d spotted it on the menu, it had reminded me of home, of my mother cooking breakfast and a crowded dining table of siblings.
We fell into friendly banter as we ate, teasing each other with memories from the previous years on tour. Most of us had worked together for a while now. The loyalty in my team was unusual given how much change there usually was for tennis players, but we had all clicked early on. I loved these big meals, my on-tour family reminding me so much of my loud family back home.
It had been a few days since I’d last spoken to my parents, my mother ranting down the phone, telling me I was looking too thin after stalking my social media from the beach house.
Zackary was in the middle of explaining some videos he wanted us to film when I spotted a familiar blonde in the background, standing up from a table, with Henrik.
The sight of them almost caught me off guard. My hitting partner and my former mixed doubles partner. His hand on her lower back. They looked like the perfect couple.
Were they back together?
I almost slid down under the table to hide, when Chloe’s gaze met mine, a smile curling her lips. She gestured to Henrik, then made her way through the clubhouse, Henrik behind her.
My mouth went dry as I took in her outfit, a simple white summer dress, thin straps cutting over her shoulders, hair down and tucked behind her ears.
She looked beautiful, and it was all for him.
“Chloe, hey.” I smiled a little too awkwardly as she arrived, all too aware of the way the bodice of her dress hugged her torso, the skirt highlighting the rise of her hips, that image of her changing in the guesthouse replaying in my mind.
I swallowed, turning to look around the table.
“Sorry to intrude.” She looked back at me, her hand resting on the top of my chair. “I thought I’d check if you were still okay for our practice later?”
“Of course.” I nodded, my eyes shifting to Henrik. “Good to see you both.”
He waved hello to everyone at the table, familiar with them from when we had worked together. The food in my stomach turned heavy at the way she looked at him. If they were back together, there was no way I could work with her.
“Pull up a seat,” I said, wondering to myself where that invite had come from.Why didn’t I let her ask her question and leave?
Her brows bunched. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, we can get you both some breakfast, or a drink.” I could’ve hit my head against the table. Everyone around the table reluctantly shuffled closer together, plates slowly being taken away by the waiters.
Chloe grabbed a chair from an empty table, pulling in next to me,her knees nudging against mine as she sat. I swallowed, trying to stop myself from jumping to assumptions. Theymightnot be back together.
“We’ve already eaten,” she said, looking up at a waiter, “but I’d take some water, thanks.”
“Henrik, you already know everyone,” I said, my voice cracking as I said his name. A chorus of hellos rang around the table, everyone still friendly towards my old doubles partner.
And then it was Chloe’s turn.
“Selene you already know,” I said, smiling towards my manager. “But then we have Mallory, my coach, Lydia, my trainer, Maya, my physio, and Zack’s on PR,” I said, going around the team; with every mention of a name, that person smiled, some of the friendliness across their features clearly forced.
