Chapter 31
Rowan
May - French Open
Someone is shaking me out of my sleep. I mumble something, only half coherently, and my sore eyes blink open, taking in my surroundings. A quick glance at the phone next to me tells me it’s only been thirty minutes since I fell asleep.
I groan and turn towards the arm that’s still shaking me, about to ask my coach why he’s here so early, but instead I’m met with a curtain of long blonde hair and wide blue eyes.
“Mags?” I ask, running the heel of my palm over my eyes, making sure she’s actually here.
“Rowan, I need you to come with me,” she says, voice quiet. Her eyes trail over my face and she gives me a small smile.
“Did something happen?” I ask, bolting out of the comfortable bed.
She nods quickly and gestures for us to leave the room. I look around and see other players trying to enjoy the space. I nod back and follow her out of the room.
“Come on,” she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the medical center.
My stomach drops when she leads us inside and flashes two visitor passes to the security guard. “Mags, what’s going on?”
“It’s Jacob. He was doing fine and all of a sudden he changed directions abruptly and landed awkwardly—”
“Was it his right knee?” I ask, blood draining from my face.
“Yes,” she says, stopping in the lobby and looking at me in surprise. “How did you know?”
My mind is reeling. If he hurt his already irritated knee, he might not return to finish the match. “He told me his knee was bothering him yesterday.”
“Shit,” Maggie says, biting her thumbnail. “This is bad, Rowan. You didn’t see him out there, he looked like he was in agony,” she says. My instinct tells me to take a step closer and wrap my arms around her. Tell her everything will be fine. That our friend is strong and he’ll get through this.
But there are people around, nurses and medical staff, even Jacob’s coaches are waiting in the lobby for news.
So I take a step back and stuff my hands in the pockets of my shorts, keeping my distance.
Maggie stops chewing on her nail and straightens up.
Realization dawns on her face and she looks at me with resignation and regret.
“Ro—” she starts, but gets cut off by Jacob’s physical trainer.
“Hey, Rowan. Jacob asked for you,” she says, motioning to the room he came out of.
I open my mouth, not knowing what to even say to Maggie, but she just squeezes my arm. “Go, we’ll talk later.”
The private room smells like cleaning supplies and lemons. I don’t know what to expect, but it’s not Jacob lying there in visible pain while Elena yells at him in Polish.
Her dark blonde hair is long and wavy, swinging everywhere as she gestures with her hands. Jacob closes his eyes and grimaces. “I don’t know what you’re bloody yelling at me for,” he says, dejected.
“You moron, how could you make such a stupid mistake?” she asks, cheeks red from anger and—crying. Taking a step closer into the room, she looks at me with red eyes and quickly wipes her hand across her cheeks to wipe the tearstains.
“It’s not like I wanted to tear my ACL, Elena,” Jacob says in a hard tone.
Elena gives him a long stare and spins on her heels, leaving us alone in the small room.
“Fuck,” Jacob yells, hitting the side of the bed with his fist.
“You tore your ACL?” I ask, approaching him and sitting down in the plastic chair nearby.
“Just my fucking luck,” he says miserably. “They’re going to take me to the nearest hospital.”
“What happened?” I ask.
Jacob takes a moment to reign in the hurt and anger. “That little fucker noticed it. He saw I was in pain and took advantage of it. I don’t even know how I landed on it, I thought I was going to pass out from the pain.”
“Fuck. I’m so sorry,” I say, clasping his hand in mine.
Jacob sniffles and says, “You better kick the shit out of him in the finals,” he says, bright eyes shrouded in pain.
“I’ll do my best. I need to win the semi-finals first,” I say, giving him a small smile. “Text me the hospital details, I’ll stop by after the match, alright?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks mate,” Jacob says, letting go of my hand. My heart goes out to him, but there’s nothing I can do at this moment. Once he’s out of the hospital, once he’s back in London, I can see what kind of help he needs and how I can be there for him.
“Hey,” I say, taking a step back. “This isn’t the end, okay?”
He gives me a stern nod and I walk out of the room. As soon as I do, a team is waiting to take him to an ambulance. I look around for Elena, hoping to ask why she was giving him such a hard time, but she’s nowhere to be found. I round the corner and find Maggie there, typing furiously on her phone.
I take a moment to admire her. She’s wearing a sage green summer dress with white flowers, no makeup, and flats. My hands itch with the need to reach out to her, but through some miracle, I hold myself back.
“Hey,” I say, approaching her. “You’re still here.”
“Of course I’m here, Rowan,” she says in a hurt tone.
“I thought you were avoiding me,” I say.
“You asked for space, Ro. I’m trying really hard to stay away,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I needed to clear my head. Besides, I’m not the one who ended things,” I say. “You really hurt me.”
All the fight leaves her body at once as she slumps against the wall and blinks the moisture away from her eyes. “What will it take for me to fix this?”
“I don’t know, Mags,” I say, running a hand over my stubble.
“I’ll do anything, Ro,” she says. I let my hand drop and study her. She looks tired and just as unhappy as I am.
“I guess I just want you to fight for me,” I say, holding her eyes. They fill with tears and I force myself to look away. I’m not strong enough to do this right now. I’m saved a moment later when my phone rings. “It’s my coach. I need to head back,” I say, glancing up once more at her.
This time, the tears are gone and Maggie gives me a terse nod. “Of course, good luck out there.”
I advance to the finals, but the victory doesn’t feel sweet. I was one point from winning the entire match and had no confidence that I could do it. But then I thought about Maggie wishing me good luck and Jacob wanting me to win this for him, and I didn’t want to let them down.
I went through the motions of answering some interview questions and telling everyone how excited I am about the finals.
When someone asked how I would celebrate the victory, all I could do was muster up a smile and try not to think about the fact that the love of my life was here avoiding me and one of my best friends was in the hospital.
With a box of pistachio macarons and “get well soon” balloons, I make my way to Jacob’s hospital room.
“Hey there, sunshine.” I grin, wiggling the box in my hand. Jacob’s lips twitch but that’s the only reaction I get. His eyes return to the tablet in his hands and his face is a hard mask of anger. “Whatcha watching?” I sing-song, trying to lighten the mood.
“How I managed to fuck up my entire career in the span of four seconds,” he says through gritted teeth.
I sigh and grab the tablet from his hands. I look at the video that’s stuck on loop and grimace. “Why would you torture yourself by looking at it?” I ask and put the tablet at the very edge of the side table. He could still reach it if he wanted to, but I’d rather he didn’t.
Jacob glares at me and the balloons in my hands. “What are you even doing here? Don’t you have to practice so you can win the tournament?”
I find a spot in the corner for the balloons and set them down. The room is dark and depressing so I walk around, opening the blinds and playing some light background music on his tablet. “Macaroon?” I ask, opening up the package and waving one in Jacob’s face.
He smacks it out of my hand and it lands on the floor with a plop. I sigh and bend down to pick it up, tossing it in the trash instead. “That was like 3 euros, man.”
I expect Jacob to laugh, or insult me, or something. I don’t expect him to start crying. He covers his face with his hands and starts sobbing. My feet take me closer to his bed and I wrap my arms around him as best as I can considering he’s propped up in a hospital bed and I’m standing.
“Let it out,” I say, patting his back. Jacob wraps his arms around my middle and sobs into my shirt. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re gonna be just fine. I promise.”
“I’m terrified I won’t ever play again,” he says eventually when his sobs turn to soft sniffles.
“Impossible. You’re one of the most determined people I know and you’ve already come back from it once. You can do it again,” I say, stepping back and sitting on the chair nearby.
“What if I can’t?” he asks miserably. “You don’t know how hard it was the first time around.”
“No, but what I do know is that you love this game with your whole heart. That’s going to be your fuel during rehabilitation.”
He sniffs and nods. “I’m sorry I threw the macaroon on the floor.”
My grin is huge as I open the box again, taking another out. I hold it out to him gingerly. “Do over?”
For the first time since getting injured, Jacob laughs. “Thanks, mate. You’re a better friend than I deserve.”
We eat our macaroons in silence, until Jacob asks around a mouthful, “How’s Maggie? I saw her briefly.”
“I don’t know.” I sigh, wiping my hands together. “We had a brief moment at the medical center, but—” I say, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “We’re still stuck in the same spot. I want more and she doesn’t want to take the risk.”
“Have you told her about the ring?”
I shake my head, shutting down the conversation. When I flew Archie back home a few days ago and left him with his sitter, I grabbed the ring and brought it with me. Maybe deep down I’m still holding out for hope.
“I still think you should,” he says, eyeing me wearily.
“I don’t see the point now.” I turn on the TV and find a sitcom for us to watch together, trying not to think about Maggie and how utterly heartbroken she looked earlier.