Chapter 33 #2
“You did it, Dad!” she yells, clinging to him, her face alight. “I knew you could.”
“Thanks, Mads.” He sets her down and turns every ounce of his attention on me. “Come here, Curls.”
Nothing could prepare me for the kiss.
Right here, for the world to see, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. He kisses me like he’s dying and my mouth is the only thing that can save him. The kiss isn’t chaste. No, it’s full of intensity, full of … feelings. I refuse to call it love. Not yet.
I’m thoroughly breathless when he presses his sweaty forehead to mine.
“Hi,” he says, giving me a crooked grin.
“Hi,” I say back, my brain sputtering with static.
“I won.”
“You did.”
He kisses me again, this one a quick peck, and then he’s gone, heading back down to the court.
When he stands on the stage and holds the trophy aloft, I burst into tears. And to think just seven months ago I thought he was insufferable.
When it’s his turn to speak, I’m a blubbering mess.
“This was a hard-fought win. Every day, I’ve worked to get to this place,” he says into the mic.
“I can’t begin to put into words what this moment means to me.
For the two years I couldn’t tour, I felt as though I was missing a vital organ.
When I returned, I wasn’t sure I’d ever play the same.
But if anything, I’m playing better. And maybe it’s because of the time off.
Because I came back more determined than ever.
” He clears his throat. “I want to thank Damian. That was a hell of a game. You were incredible. Truly. Everyone, give this guy some love.”
The crowd obeys, and when we quiet down, he goes on.
“I want to thank all the people who work hard to make this event what it is. The ball boys and ball girls that are out here day in and day out. I also want to thank my team. This win might mean even more to them than it does to me. They’ve seen me at my worst and they encouraged me every step of the way as I climbed my way back to the top.
“I want to thank my daughter. Maddie Girl, you are the light of my life. I’m so proud to be your father and I can’t wait to see what sticker you have picked out for me.
I want to thank my … Sabrina. I’m not easy to deal with, but you barged your way into my life and you haven’t taken no for an answer.
You…” He rubs at his mouth. “You’ve brought me back to life, whether you realize it or not. ”
Suddenly, my image appears on the screen, startling me.
I want to melt beneath the scrutiny. With a smile that looks more like a grimace, I lift my hand in an awkward wave that brings out a chorus of laughter.
My cheeks heat. Dammit. I hope they find this endearingly amusing, but I’m not sure I could blame them if they’re laughing at me.
“And last,” Noah says, bringing all attention back to himself, thank God. “I want to thank the people here today for keeping the energy up. Without you, I don’t think I would have had the drive to keep going. Thank you.” He tips his head.
As Noah leaves the stage, Fisher turns to me and shakes my shoulder. “How are you holding up after that?”
A peal of uncomfortable laughter escapes me.
He chuckles. “That well, huh?”
“Just about. Come on. Let’s go.” I take Maddie’s hand, scared I’ll lose her in the crowd as we navigate to a more private space.
When we reach a long hall for staff only, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of stickers.
“Which one do you think I should give Dad?”
I pick through her selection until I find a pink tennis ball holding an orange racket with Tennis Champ scrawled above it. “How about this one?”
“Perfect.” She clamps her hand closed and shoves the rest into her pocket. When she put the dress on this morning, the first thing she did was shove her hands in and say, “It has pockets!”
Of course she did. She’s a girl. It’s what we do.
When we’re escorted into one of the lounge rooms, Noah is nowhere to be seen. My hands still tremble from the adrenaline rush that hit me when he won. Willing them to steady, I smooth them over my dress—a pink and purple floral design that Maddie said made me look like a lollipop.
Within minutes, Noah appears. His coaches and trainers break into a round of applause and rush forward to hug him and shower him in compliments.
When the crowd around him breaks apart, he emerges from it with a smile so large I feel like I’m being warmed by the sun.
He kneels, opening his arms wide for Maddie to run into.
“I’m so proud of you.” She throws her arms around his neck.
With his eyes closed like he’s trying to memorize the moment, he squeezes her back.
She lets him go, but only so she can peel the backing off her sticker of choice and press it to his shirt.
He looks down at it, his grin widening. “Tennis Champ?”
With a shrug, she crumples the backing paper in her fist. “Yeah. You won. You’re the champ.” She pats his chest and gives him a placating smile.
“Thanks, Mads.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you.”
She loops her arms over his shoulders again and kisses his cheek in return. “I love you too, Daddy.”
He leans in close, whispers in her ear, then stands and strides over to me where I stand in the corner, wringing my hands and willing the butterflies in my stomach to settle. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from the scrutiny I was under when every camera zoomed in on me.
He steps up to me, his smile turning shy. Boyish, even.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you out there.”
“I wasn’t embarrassed,” I scoff.
He chuckles. “I saw your face on the screen. You were definitely embarrassed.”
I drop my head and blow out a breath. “It was surreal and a little scary, I guess, having all those cameras pointed at me.”
“It’s okay.” He cups my cheek, gently forcing me to lift my head. “As long as you know I meant every word.”
With a groan, I look away. “Don’t you dare make me cry. I’ll never forgive you.”
“I can’t have that, now, can I?” He hovers closer and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I have interviews to get to,” he says as he slowly backs away. “I’ll see you later. All right?”
“All right.”
With one last hug for Maddie, he’s gone, and within minutes, the room empties out.
When it’s only the two of us and Fisher, he points to the TV mounted on the wall. “You two are welcome to stay here and watch, or you can head back to the hotel. Or maybe go on an adventure.”
I turn my attention to the girl at my side. “What do you want to do?”
Head tilted back, she grins. “Let’s hang out here for a while.” She whirls around and hops onto the couch, quickly making herself comfortable.
Fisher turns the TV on, then heads for the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
I eye the couch, wishing I had comfy clothes to change into, then decide to check out the snack table before I join Maddie.
“Do you want anything?” I ask as I pick up a paper plate.
“Just water.” She keeps her attention focused on the TV, clearly anxious for any sign of her father.
I sit beside her, balancing my plate on my knees, and pass her one of the water bottles. When I unscrew the cap on the other and bring it to my lips, it hits me just how thirsty I am. For hours, I was so focused on the game I forgot about everything else, even basic needs like hydration.
The longer I sit, the drowsier I become.
Clearly, the adrenaline has worn off, and I feel as though I’m crashing.
I can’t imagine how it affects Noah, though he’ll probably be riding the high for days.
Two hours later, the interviews are over, and Fisher returns.
“Noah’s got a few more things to do, but you might as well head back to the hotel. ”
“Did you hear that?” I stand and gather my things, as well as Maddie’s. “Let’s bounce.”
Unbothered, she runs over to the snacks table and snags a piece of chocolate.
“Be safe,” Fisher says as he loads us into a waiting car.
Then we’re off. It takes real effort to keep my eyes open on the short ride to the hotel, but we’re both still awake when the car pulls up out front.
I’m just slipping out of my boots when my phone rings. Certain it’s Lucy, I answer without looking at the screen.
“Sabrina.” At the sound of the voice on the other end—a voice that is definitely not Lucy’s—cold slithers down my spine.
“Yes?” I reply in the sassiest tone I can muster. I’m so sick of the way my parents randomly crawl out of the woodwork and disrupt my happiness.
“Bagged yourself a rich one, didn’t you?” my mother says. “Bet you’re real pleased with yourself.” Her words are slurred, making it obvious she’s drunk, even though it’s only early afternoon in the States.
“Mom,” I snap, grateful Maddie headed straight for the shower. “Why does it matter to you? You’re not in my life. You’ll never be in my life again. Who I may or may not be dating is none of your business.”
“I’m your mother. That makes it my business.”
“No.” My tone is lethal, strong enough to cut like a knife.
This is the way I’ve wished I could speak to her for years.
For so long, I’ve wanted to stick up for myself, but it’s always been easier to keep the peace.
“Being my mother meant you were supposed to take care of me. It meant you were supposed to keep me safe, feed me. You did none of that. I don’t owe you anything. ”
She sputters, but before she can form a retort, I hang up and block her number like I should have years ago.
Then I do the same with my dad’s. I didn’t want to do it before, but that naive little girl inside me who desperately wanted an apology and acknowledgment has finally given up.
I’m done holding out hope that they’ll come begging for my forgiveness because I’ve finally realized that they don’t want it.
I collapse onto the bed, blowing out a breath of air I had trapped in my lungs.
And then I laugh.
I’m free.