Page 65 of Love, Amy

Maybe I have other options.

I call Fernanda back. The words are out of my mouth before I can really think about them. “I’m going to Rome.”

Fernanda cheers. “Thank God! Francisco and I want to play you two at the All-Star Event.”

“The what?” I ask, confused.

“Didn’t Vince tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I demand.

“The other part of the plan,” she says mischievously. “I’ll see you soon, Ames. Both of you.”

She hangs up.

*

Vince comes back as I wheel one of the suitcases I barely unpacked yesterday into the living room. “Going somewhere?” he asks, fighting a smile.

“Maybe.” I cross my arms. “Did you sign me and Aurelio up for some All-Star Event?”

“It’s new,” Vince explains. “They’re doing a mini mixed doubles tournament with all the biggest singles players the first two days of the U.S. Open. Francisco and Fernanda signed up. Charles is playing with another Frenchwoman. Anika and Joaquin are together, I think.” He shrugs. “It should be fun.”

I give him a look. “I’m not playing, Vince. I’m not ready. And I don’t even know if Aurelio will forgive me.”

Now, Vince gives me a look.

I fight the urge to stamp my foot like a child. “I’m serious! How can I play in such a big tournament without a coach?”

Vince smiles, rubbing his beard. “I think I have an idea on that front.”

When he tells me the name, I blink in disbelief.

“I think it could work, Amy,” Vince reassures me. “We’ll meet you at the Open next week. Just bring Aurelio. I’ve got you.”

I’m so overwhelmed with gratitude that I engulf him in a hug. “Thank you, Vince,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

It takes him a moment, but then he gently pats me on the back. “You’re welcome, Amy.” I step out of his arms, embarrassed at my abrupt show of emotion. Vince’s expression is kind. “I can’t wait to see you play.”

Play, not win. My confidence grows at the sentiment. I don’t know if I can win. I don’t know if I’ll ever win a Grand Slam or even another match. But I know I can play.

I love playing. Isn’t that why I’m a tennis player? Doesn’t Amy the person love playing tennis and that’s what created Amy the tennis player? How can one exist without the other?

I let out a determined breath and pick up my suitcase. “Can I ask you for one more favor?” I look over at Vince. He nods. “How about a ride to the airport?”

Vince breaks into a smile. “I think Rome is waiting for you, Amy.”

I leave one home behind and head for another.

CHAPTER 20

Aurelio’s Home: August 2026

It’s well past midnight when the car pulls up to Aurelio’s house. His family’s house. The white stone gleams in the moonlight, the small trees and shrubs in the front yard casting strange shadows. There’s a little birdbath near the front window and a stone path leading to the door.

“Grazie,” I tell the driver when he pulls my suitcase from the back. He nods and drives off into the darkness.

I walk slowly up the path, my suitcase rattling unevenly on the stones. I managed to hop onto a very expensive, last-minute flight after begging the front desk person at the airport for several humiliating minutes. When I landed in Rome about an hour ago, I considered calling Aurelio to pick me up, but I was already getting some attention from fans at the airport, and I figured we didn’t need double the amount when Italy's favorite athlete showed up with a black eye.