CHAPTER 48
George
Hope is understanding, of course.
Despite specializing in sports, she’s practically my therapist for all aspects of life.
You’d expect her to have the patience to deal with egotistical idiots like me.
I take her through what happened, how I’ve coped with it over the past few weeks.
Despite my complete and utter meltdown on court, she’s proud of me.
‘You didn’t squash it. You felt it. You let it come. And you dealt with it. Without me even.’
‘You’ve really helped, Hope. I mean it. Last year I’d have fallen to pieces after that match, after everything else.’
‘But you haven’t. And not only that. You’ve reached out.’ She nods encouragingly. ‘I can see you’ve changed. You’re a totally different person to the man I saw in our first video session. Your demeanour, the way you treat yourself and those around you. You’re getting there, doing well.’
She’s less sympathetic when I tell her about Leo. I speak at length, probably the most I’ve ever shared with her, until she raises a hand.
‘George, at the risk of you never opening up again, you do know I’m a sports psychologist, not a relationship counsellor?’
Ah.
She continues, a grin forming. ‘But I’m also a woman. And a romantic.’
I smile. ‘Oh yeah?’
She stares me down through the screen. ‘I swear romance novels are the only things that help me escape the reality of dealing with you lot!’
‘No breathing techniques for you, doc? You dark horse!’ I tease. ‘Wait, have you heard of Red Hot Ranch?’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not living under a rock, George. Of course I have.’
‘Well, what would our guy Brett Tanner do?’ I grin.
She laughs out loud. ‘He’d say –’ she puts on a Southern accent and I can’t help but laugh along with her – ‘George, you need a big ol’ grand gesture to win back a gal like that.’
We laugh but my mind whirs.
A grand gesture. Something big to show her how much she means to me.
She’s not a diamonds girl, flowers aren’t enough, she doesn’t care about materialistic things. She just needs to know that I’ll never let her down again. That I’m proud of her, that I believe her, that she’s helped me.
I think she needs me to be me. Not that person I’ve been hiding behind, but actually me.
It hits me.
‘Hope, I’ve got it.’
‘Go on then.’ She grins. ‘Give it to me.’