Of course! I told you he messaged me the other week, didn’t I?
The look on your face was priceless
I had NO idea he planned to come out at all let alone on the biggest possible stage
Pretty sure that was the point
Now I know you hate looking at social media, but you NEED to see what people are saying! Look!
WHILE I MADE my way back to the hotel, Katie sent me screenshot after screenshot of people reacting to Miles’s admission, or photos of our kiss.omg they are just the best?someone had written. Another had said,This is what professional sport needs, more of this please! #MatAndMiles. Others had spammed heart-eye emojis, announced they would die for us, or claimed to have suddenly discovered an interest in tennis. Another longer post said,Yaasss Matteeooo! This man has carried gay rep in sports on his fucking shoulders for years. He’s an utter legend and deserves every moment of this. BUT if Miles Callahan breaks his heart I will go to war!
I laughed and forwarded that picture to Miles before scanning through the rest Katie had sent, only to be sorry when she stopped sending more.
Thanks, wow. I don’t know what to say to any of that
You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know that while there are always arseholes, most people think it’s pretty cool actually
Ah! Quick, TV if you’re near one!
I’d just made it back to the room, and leaving the door to swing closed, I snatched up the TV remote. The women’s match that had followed Miles’s was at five all in the first set, though play had been paused for a medical timeout. Not that the commentators were talking about injuries.
“—caused about a ten-minute delay to the start of the match,” one was saying. “Not that I think anyone was complaining.”
“Not in the least,” the other laughed. “If you’ve only just tuned in and missed what happened earlier, here’s a replay from the end of the Callahan-Benitez match.”
The coverage cut to Miles standing with the on-court interviewer, and an anticipatory shiver rippled through me. Like I was there all over again, I caught my breath as he asked the man to enquire about his players box, and at the first sight of my own confused expression as the camera cut to me surrounded by his team – all of them hiding smiles.
To watch it unfold as a spectator was even more surreal than being there. From here, I could see my own face, see the crowd’s reaction, see it all play out from his admissions to our kiss like it was a fairy tale happening to someone else. But it was our fairy tale, and while Miles and I smiled at one another over the court wall, the match commentators said, “Well, folks, this is certainly not something we see every day.”
“Definitely making history,” the other replied. “And this crowd will forever be able to say they were here for it.”
“Absolutely, John. And to think, with the time difference, America will be waking up to this.”
They cut to footage of Miles sitting in the press room next, cameras flashing endlessly around him. Despite the buzz, he sat at his ease, faintly smiling as someone asked a barely audible question. My heart thudded sickeningly like I was right there with him.
“Why not?” he said in answer. “When you’ve got a big stage, use it for a big moment.”
“Surely, winning the tournament would have been the bigger stage,” someone said.
“Of course, but that would require being sure I was going to win it, right? And it doesn’t matter how well you feel you’re playing, there’s no sure in tennis.”
A quiet question that sounded like it had the words “first-round” in it followed.
“No, obviously not,” Miles said, and I could tell he’d started bouncing one knee beneath the table, containing nervous energy. “I didn’t want to distract Mat while he was still in the tournament. Look, the choice of timing really wasn’t that interesting.”
Taking the hint to move on, another reporter asked, “How do you think this will affect your tennis?”
“Being gay or having a boyfriend who’s also on tour?” Miles looked oddly pleased by the question, despite it being one I’d always hated. “Because me being gay isn’t new. You all finding out about it is new, but I was gay before I stepped onto the pro tour. As for the other,” he went on with an amused smile. “I think we can all agree that I’m playing better than ever and so is Mat, so you tell me. I’d say we’re very good for each other.”
Of course he was good at this. Sitting there dripping his charm and answering their ridiculous questions like it was nothing, like he was damn well enjoying himself.
The coverage cut back to the women’s match then, with one of the commentators saying, “I doubt anything that happens for the rest of the tournament will top this.”
While I waited for Miles, I called my parents, called Katie, fielded dozens of messages and braved a scroll through social media. While there were would be negative reactions if I looked for them, the outpouring of joy for us was undeniable. People were sharing videos of their families screaming at the TV, clips of American morning news programs, even hasty sketches of us, and I sat on the couch alternately crying and laughing with disbelief, my heart full.
It overflowed when Miles arrived. He looked tired yet bright-eyed, everything about him soft and gorgeous with his hair dry andthe sleeves of his hoodie pushed halfway up his forearms. He set his bags down inside the door and stayed there, smiling at me across the room. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I replied, smiling softly back. “You look exhausted.”
