Inés:When you’re back, I’ll make sure you get a reward.
Isighed loudly. I really wanted that reward.
It was the night before the opening round of the US Open, and while I should have been preparing for tomorrow’s match, instead I’d been dragged to a sneaker launch for ELITE.
Except in the car ride here, I’d doomscrolled a little too close to the sun, finding more headlines with twisted stories about me.
Messy Murphy Rude to Restaurant Staff in Local Toronto Institution
Is Messy Murphy Distracted? Legendary Coach Breaks Down Latest Performance.
What to Expect from Murphy at US Open: Mistakes, Breakdowns and Faults
I’d been noticing it more and more. Now I didn’t even brave the comment sections, scared of what I’d find. Inés and I hadn’t spoken directly about it yet, but sometimes I saw her frowning at her phone, and wondered if she’d seen something.
“Are you okay in there?” A voice from beyond my bathroom stall echoed, a slight accent detectable. “There’s a lot of... sighing. I thought I would check.”
“I’m fine,” I squeaked out, a hand pressing against my face, my embarrassment burning my skin. “I’m hiding from people.”
Her laugh sounded like caramel, soft and friendly. “We couldmake a support group,” she said, before the sound of a running tap filled the air. “My ex is out there.”
I jumped off the closed toilet lid, opened the door, and peered out of the stall. “Oh, really?” I said, instantly interested in the gossip. I found the woman washing her hands, her gaze reflected back at me. Something in the back of my mind sparked, as if we’d already met, but I couldn’t place her. She was short, with a beautiful head of natural curls. “Tell me more.”
She almost looked reluctant for a moment, staring back at me in the mirror, but then lifted her hands from the sink and grabbed a handful of paper towels. Shrugging, she sighed. “It was a long time ago, it shouldn’t matter.” She threw the paper towels in the trash. “But I only came to this thing because a friend asked me to and now... I regret it.”
I moved closer, leaning against the marble counter. “The breakup or attending?”
She laughed again. “Oh, he broke up with me.”
I drew back, scoffing, “I’m sorry, who the hell does he think he is? You’re hot as hell.”
Her head slanted, an eyebrow raised, before she named him. “Ruari Reilly.”
“Oh.” Realization hit me. Ranked number one, the 6'4" Scot known as much for his backside as his backhand. “That tracks. He’s an asshole.”
“It’s been a long time, but I’d rather walk through hell than face him again.” She laughed, before her expression turned regretful. “Sorry, I’m totally dumping on you.”
I shook my head, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, this will probably end up being the highlight of my night.”
“Glad I could help.”
“I’m Chloe, by the way.” I stuck my hand out towards her, glad to have made a friend. “Chloe Murphy.”
“I know who you are,” she said, taking my hand. “Noemi De Rosa.”
“Have we played?” I asked awkwardly.
“Fourth round. Australian Open,” she said, not needing more than a second to recall. The memories revealed themselves, pelting at me like tennis balls from a ball launcher. “You used up all your challenges and argued with the umpire. Not that you really needed to. Not with the power you’ve got behind those shots.”
I cringed, embarrassment ready to swallow me whole.
“I’m very sorry. I know I was hardly on my best behavior during the match,” I tried to explain, a faint feeling of sickness tingling. I’d been a complete brat during that round. To be completely honest, the entire competition. And every single tournament afterwards. Until now... until Inés.
Noemi paused, her eyes searching me as if caught off guard by my words. “It’s fine. Fourth round was the furthest I’ve gotten in a while. It was bound to end eventually. And you were still the deserved winner, even if it was a little messy.”
I hesitated. “Still, I was out of line. I’ve been trying to... you know, work on that.”
A flicker of amusement passed through Noemi’s eyes. “Well, I’ll admit, you were memorable.”
