Page 87 of Hard to Love

I expect bitterness to come. Anger. I anticipate the need to punch something . . . but there’s nothing but a churning in my gut and a sudden emptiness in my heart.

She’s gone. But she’s gone because she’s a tennis champion, and she’s heading to work. To do what she’s been working so hard for. And that is perfectly okay. It’s what we knew was coming. It’s what we’ve been preparing for. It’s what she wants . . . and needs.

She didn’t leave without cause. Is that the difference?

Did Dad ever find out why Mom left us? Why she could turn her back on her marriage and on her son?

I close my eyes and will myself back to sleep, thinking maybe it would be easier if I were bitter like my dad.

But I’m not.

This is something altogether different, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.

I love you, Stevie.

I really do.

FINN

“HOW’S SHE DOING?” FAITH ASKS with a lift of her chin to the television as she moves through the family room.

“She just won in straight sets.” I glance her way but then go right back to the television. To where Stevie is sitting on her bench post-match, wiping the sweat off her face and then putting her rackets away.

“So that’s good, right?”

“Yes.” I smile distracted. “That’s good.”

I thought the ache in my chest would subside. It hasn’t. I’ve thrown myself into my work the last few days but even that hasn’t distracted me enough to forget.

Because how can you forget a woman like her?

Stevie stands and the camera follows her as she moves over to where Kellen stands with another man.

“You know you have a house in Manhattan, right?”

“What?” I ask Faith.

“The other place you live?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Isn’t it only a few subway rides away from where she’s playing right now?”

“Mm-hmm,” I murmur as Stevie smiles and pats Kellen on the back.

I know the distance from my place. I’ve even looked up ticket availability and how to get there.

But sitting here, watching her in her element and doing her thing, I decide that my presence there would only be a distraction.

And if she’s going to win this title, that’s the last thing she needs.

This is what she does. She has a life of her own that has nothing to do with mine and . . .

Stevie looks toward where the camera is, and I swear to God, it feels like she’s looking straight at me.

It would be an impossible stretch. With me normally in New York and her in Florida. For us to try and make it work. It would—

It was a good run.