Chapter 8
Maggie
February - Palm Beach
A week later, I’m in Rowan’s bed, being crushed by sixty-five pounds of pure sunshine. I grunt, begrudgingly opening my eyes to see Archie, Rowan’s golden retriever. His ears are twitching excitedly and his tongue is lolling, giving him the goofiest grin.
Archie’s paws rest on my chest and he somehow manages to put all his weight into them. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you some food. And a walk.” His ears perk up impossibly higher and he gives me an excited bark. I laugh and get out of bed, following him to the kitchen in my bare feet.
The house is empty and quiet without Rowan here.
While my personality is more on the quiet and reserved side, Rowan is the complete opposite.
He fills this townhouse with so much light, talking and playing with Archie, catching me up on all his friends’ shenanigans, dancing in the kitchen as he tries a new recipe.
This weekend, however, he’s visiting his mom in Charleston.
When he called to tell me, I was excited, thinking that he wanted me to go with him.
I love his mom and his two goofy best friends and I would have jumped at the opportunity to see them again.
But instead, he asked if I could dog sit Archie.
My phone buzzes and I rush to check who’s calling me, hoping it would be Rowan. Instead, it’s my dad’s name that flashes across the screen. I silence it and let it go to voicemail. My dad and I didn’t leave things on the best of terms. Not that I expected us to.
For a while, he used to be my whole world. My best friend. His career took us all over the world, but instead of remembering the Eiffel Tower or the Big Ben—all I remember are the tennis courts. Our greatest love.
Things changed after he and my mom divorced.
And when I got into Stanford, my dad was livid.
He had plans for me to go pro right after high school.
Follow in his footsteps. All I wanted at the time was to make him proud, but I needed to escape his influence.
And the negative press that always followed him around like a dark cloud.
I realize I’m frowning at the can of dog food and shake myself out of it when Archie bumps his nose against my leg, excited for his breakfast. I smile and pet his soft golden head, leaving him to eat while I change.
Half of Rowan’s closet is full of my clothes and I grab the first thing I see fit for a run.
I try not to dwell too much on the reason why Rowan didn’t ask me to go with him, afraid that my overthinking will spiral out of control.
We’ve always been close, spending most of our time together on and beyond the court, practicing together, traveling to major tournaments, visiting our respective friends and families for the holidays.
I always thought we were on the same page, even though this agreement between us has changed over the years.
We took a break, we picked things back up, we’ve amended the list, and yet, I’ve never wanted to label this thing between us.
The most obvious reason is to keep it out of the public eye, especially after how much I’ve had to deal with my family being the center of negative press, but also because I don’t want the pressure of a relationship crumbling our friendship.
Still, why didn’t he ask me to go with him?
Once I’m dressed in running shorts and my favorite navy blue tank top, I snap the leash to Archie’s collar and lead him out the front door, planning to take the path to the beach.
I take a picture of his head turned back to look at me, his face showing all the excitement in the world, and I send it to Rowan. I haven’t heard from him since last night when he landed, and I wonder if he’s sleeping in after meeting up with his friends, Garrett and Boone.
When I was in college, I didn’t have many friends, except for Rowan.
In time, some of his friends have become mine as well, though I’m still nowhere near as sociable as he is.
When I got a brand deal with Athlala, a national athleisure brand, I got to meet some kick ass women in other sports.
Some of them have become really close friends of mine over the years.
I smile and send them the same picture of Archie. My phone immediately pings with replies from Blair and Isla.
Blair
“Who’s a good boy??”
Isla
Hanging out with your hot friend again? The one we’re certain you’re secretly dating but you refuse to tell us?
I bite my lip. She’s right on the money, of course. But Rowan and I have sworn to never tell anyone about our agreement, and so I’ve kept that promise.
Maggie
Archie is the goodest boy.
What are you two up to today?
Blair
Oh, you know…gym owner life…
Even though she sometimes downplays her accomplishments, my friend was the first woman on an NFL roster, and she’s a successful business owner, having just opened a second location for her gym, Embers and Ashes.
Maggie
Ah yes, all that work hard, play harder lifestyle. How’s your NFL boyfriend?
Blair
Ty’s great, thanks for asking. And stop deflecting Isla’s questions. When are you going to admit you and Rowan are a thing?
Maggie
We’re not. It’s complicated.
Look at me, dropping the understatement of the century in the group chat.
Isla
Mhm. Sure babe
I’m doing okay, unpacking now that I moved in with my brother.
Isla recently went through a divorce and cut ties with her ex skating partner. She’s made her way back to Palmer City, her hometown, where she’ll be training with a new partner and hopes to make a comeback. I send off another message, promising to catch up another time.
I pocket my phone and set a jogging pace as Archie dutifully follows, only getting distracted once by a small lizard. When we get to the beach, my phone rings and I pop in my buds to take my sister’s call.
“Hey Andreea,” I say, digging through my small backpack for the frisbee.
“Hey,” she says, followed by silence. I throw the frisbee as far as I can for Archie and when she still doesn’t say anything else, I prod.
“How’s it going, dear sister of mine?” I tease, stretching as I wait for the dog to bring me back the frisbee. He chases a seagull instead and it takes him a minute before remembering to grab the toy.
“Oh, you know. Fine,” she says airily.
“This conversation is riveting, Andreea, I’m truly honored you called,” I joke.
My sister groans on the other end and finally says, “Okay, you’re going to hate me, but I have some big news and I want the whole family there for it, which means I invited mom and dad to the country club next week. I’m in town for work and they’re both flying in.”
I freeze right as I take the frisbee back from Archie and he barks at me, confused why I stopped playing.
Fuck, the last thing I want is to see my parents.
Especially in the same room together. My mom only shows up when it benefits her, flying in to see me in tournaments only if I pay for her flights and accommodations.
And my dad—well, he doesn’t bother to show up to any of my tournaments.
He’s called a few times in the last couple months, today included, but I’ve ignored every single one.
“Andi, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be there,” I say, using her nickname to soften the rejection.
“Mags, I know I’m asking for damn near the impossible, but I really, really need you there,” she says and I’m taken aback by the fact that she’s all but begging me. That’s not in her nature at all.
“It’s that important to you?” I ask softly.
“It’s that important.”
Shit. I sigh and nod, even though she can’t see me. “Okay, I’ll be there. Can I bring Rowan as moral support?”
“I already invited him,” she says distractedly.
“Oh? When did you two conspire?”
“This morning, he called to ask me about—” She pauses for a long moment and I frown. Why is Rowan talking to my sister? I mean, they’re friends, sure, but I don’t think they’ve ever had a one on one conversation, just the two of them.
“About what?”
“Oh, he needed a gift idea for his mom. Nothing crazy,” she says quickly and my suspicion grows. It’s February and Rowan’s mom’s birthday is in October. Why would he need a gift idea?
“Anyway, I’ll see you both next week, and I really appreciate you!” she says quickly. “Okay, bye.”
“Um, okay…” I say as she hangs up on me.
I stare at my phone and my unanswered text to Rowan and get the feeling something is off, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.