Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
NAOMI
London, UK – June
Queen’s Championship
My day had been moving along as expected.
I woke up with one of Sam’s hands resting on my waist, even though the rest of him was flat on his back on the other side of the bed. Ate my peanut butter toast and a stolen pancake from Wyatt. Drank my coffee in my favourite spot and read some of my book.
We made it to Queen’s Club after we dropped Logan off at my parents’ house.
Went through my warm-up and hitting practice.
I cooled back down and ate my pre-match pasta while watching Sam inexplicably tape his fingers in front of me.
I joked around with Lois, who was doing a workout while I did my pre-match warm-up.
Everything was fine.
Then, I laced up my grass court shoes again in the locker room, and it dawned on me that I was about to start my last grass court season. Ever.
And I promptly burst into tears.
Within moments, there was a cool weight against my thigh, and then Lois dropped into my eyeline.
“You okay? You need something? I’ve got painkillers. Or food?”
I laughed wetly at the idea that she thought I was crying because I was hungry. I shook my head and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes hard.
“Mimi, you’re kind of scaring me. What’s happening? What can I do to help?”
I removed my hands and looked around the room. Surprisingly, we were the only ones there.
“You can’t do anything. Nothing is going to change the fact that this is my final grass court season.”
Lois nodded in understanding. “I think I’ve been in denial over it.
If I start thinking that every time we stand on opposite sides of the net it might be the last, I’ll lose just because I can’t cope with never playing against you again.
I hadn’t even thought about this being your last grass court season. ”
“I don’t know why I’m crying. Everywhere we’ve played, I won’t be going back to.”
“Well, these days you cry at daffodils making their first appearance”—I poked her in the arm, and she laughed—“so it makes sense you’re crying now.
I’d feel that way about clay. I will feel that way about clay.
You’ve started saying goodbye to the surface you play best on.
Which feels weird to say when you took me to the wire for the victory in Paris, but it’s true. Cry away.”
Tears started running down my cheeks again. Lois settled her hands on both my thighs and offered comfort while I cried.
I didn’t know how much time had passed before I heard my phone vibrate on the bench next to me.
It was Wyatt confirming that I’d been called to court.
It showed how in my head I was about this that I hadn’t even heard the call come.
Wyatt also never texted me about that. It was incredible how well he knew me.
I wiped under my eyes and accepted the wet paper towel Lois presented me, pressing it against my face.
I fired off a quick text back to my brother and checked my kit bags.
“How bad do I look?” I asked Lois.
“You don’t look like you’ve been crying.
Hey, um, do you think I could watch you with your usual suspects today?
” she asked nervously. Despite being friends, the very nature of our lives meant we never got to cheer the other one on courtside.
We were either both playing at the same time or had our own routines we needed to follow to ensure we could play our best.
“You know the rules?”
“Conceal, don’t feel,” she shot back quickly with a grin.
I returned the smile. “Then yes, I’ll let Wyatt know to expect you. I’ve gotta go.”
“Remember, no one plays on the grass quite like Naomi Sullivan,” she called out as I left the locker room and headed to the court.
Lois was right.
On my day, no one could play on the grass like I could.
My mum was right too.
I still had some big wins left in me.
For the whole week, every time I turned up on court, I was firing on all cylinders. I wasn’t on court for longer than an hour, and it was the easiest run I’d had to a trophy in my entire career.
To celebrate, I was getting a roast, and I couldn’t wait.
But first, I had to hide away in my bedroom, lie on my bed, and cry until I gave myself a headache. When my eyes had run out of tears, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I called wetly.
Wyatt’s head popped through the gap in the door.
“Damn, I was hoping you’d still be crying so I could just pile on.”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “You know that doesn’t sound good, right?” The only reason I knew he wasn’t about to drop some bad news was how relaxed he looked.
“I know. But I just don’t want to be the reason you cry, and now I’m going to be. It’s nothing bad, per se. It’s just I have some things to say, and I’ve been wondering when the best time to do it would be, and now seems like a good time because—”
“Wyatt, just get to the point,” I cut in.
He nodded and came to lie on the bed next to me, both of us staring at the ceiling.
“Fine, I’m gonna miss you. I know you aren’t going anywhere, really, but you won’t be on court anymore, and I’m gonna miss being your coach.
I will forever be thankful that you took a chance on me and let me do it because it’s been the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on.
What you’ve managed to do over the past year is nothing short of incredible and also exactly what I expected of you.
You don’t do things by halves, and you like to prove people wrong.
This sport missed you when you were gone, and it’s going to miss you once you walk off into the sunset with that gold medal around your neck. ”
“We’re not even close to that yet,” I pointed out.
“But I’m right. It won’t be easy, but it’s yours. I know it the same way I know that you bang your racquet against the heel of your hand the way you do because you copied something you saw Mum do once and thought she looked cool.”
I snorted. “You weren’t even alive when that happened.”
Mum was pregnant with him when I first saw her do it and subconsciously decided to steal it.
“And yet, it’s something I’ve always known.
Now, this is the part I couldn’t figure out the best time to say to you, because you’re gonna hate it, but I need you to know it, and then we can ride out the rest of your season like this never happened.
” He took a deep breath. “I’m proud of you.
Like so unbelievably proud, I want to shout it from the rooftops and get one of those plane banner things sent around the world.
If people said half the shit about me that they’ve said about you for the last twelve or so years, I’d be in prison.
The way you’ve managed to block that out and show up on court day in and day out, and continue to put your best foot forward, is admirable.
People used to think it was weird when Leesh and I would say our role model was someone who was only a handful of years older than us.
But you’ve proven, time and time again, why we were right to do it.
You’ve given people grace when they didn’t deserve it, respect when they deserved to be spat at, and kindness when they could’ve done with being put in a trash compactor.
And in amongst the onslaught and deluge of shit, you’ve won.
“And you’ve won well. You’ve won against the odds.
You’ve won when you looked like you were beaten.
You’ve won in great shows of domination, like this week.
I hated that, for a while, the final image of you on court was one where your body failed you.
You deserved better than that. You’re going to get better than that.
I would’ve been—I was—proud of you before your comeback.
But fuck, if it doesn’t make me inordinately happy watching you remind everyone who the fuck you are and how that one match hasn’t defined you.
It’s been the greatest honour being the outwardly unemotional person by your side for all these years, and I still want to be you when I grow up. ”
I could see why Wyatt wanted me to already be crying for this conversation because I could feel tears sliding down my cheeks.
It was also obvious why he’d been trying to figure out the best time to say this to me, because this was a level of emotion and sincerity I would not have had the capacity to park the closer to the end of my tennis career I got.
“For fuck’s sake, Wyatt, why are you doing this to me?
” I turned my head to look at him and saw tears sliding down his cheeks, too.
“But fine, let’s do this. I’m sorry I told you to rethink your choice about becoming a player, but also, I’m not.
You were always going to be a better coach than player.
It was the hardest decision of my professional life to fire Mum, but hiring you was the easiest. I can’t wait to see what more you’ll achieve when you’re not splitting your focus.
It’s already kind of amazing what you’re doing.
You’ve been the best coach to do this with.
Now, we’re cut from the same cloth, so you’re going to hate this; I’m proud of you, too.
And thank you. For being by my side and making sure that I got to focus on the thing I’m fucking great at. ”
He laughed wetly and wiped at his face. “Fucking hell, Mimi, why’d you have to go and say that?”
“You started it!”
“You didn’t have to finish it!”
A silence fell over us as we both kept wiping our faces free of the tears.
“Mimi, you won Queen’s this week in five hours. Who the fuck does that?” Wyatt said in disbelief, making me laugh loudly.
“Just don’t expect a repeat in Eastbourne, if only because the wind exists,” I said when I’d calmed down.
“Mate, I’m not expecting you to even think about Eastbourne right now. Take the week. I’ve gotta see a man about a title defence. Now, let’s go devour a roast and drink the good wine that Mum insists on gatekeeping.”