Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
SAM
An unexpected retirement midway through the third set meant that I was cooling down while Naomi finished her match.
She didn’t look much better than when I’d last seen her, and she’d declined a hitting session yesterday because she wasn’t getting out of bed, but she hadn’t played terribly from what I’d seen.
As she walked into the gym and beelined straight for the bike next to mine, I realised she’d been faking it because she basically melted before my eyes, collapsing onto the bike.
Her feet were on the pedals, and she was slumped over the handlebars.
Her match braids were a long line down her back, a stark contrast of black on her white dress.
Wyatt dropped her bags beside her and, with a hand on her shoulder, encouraged her to sit back up before handing her a large bottle of what I could only assume were electrolytes.
“Are you okay?” I asked quietly. Naomi just nodded as she guzzled from the bottle, her shoulders starting to slump forward again.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna let you lie about that,” Wyatt said, his voice stern.
“Wyatt, I’m fine. I just need to drink some more fluids and get some food in me, then I’m good to go.”
It took me a moment to realise she was referring to our doubles match.
“Naomi, you can’t play again,” Wyatt followed up.
“Yeah, I’m inclined to agree,” I added.
She groaned as she handed off her bottle to her brother and slumped back over the handlebars, her legs never stopping.
“I hate you both for being right. This is so stupid. And annoying.” Her voice was strained.
At that moment, my dad arrived.
“Good, you’re here. I was thinking we could talk strategy for the doubles,” he said with a false sense of cheer.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, Naomi isn’t going to be able to play another match. I need to get her home.”
Dad’s jaw clenched. Hard.
“Is she injured?”
I stopped myself from snorting at the ridiculous nature of that question, like she needed to be broken to not take to the court.
“She’s not going to be able to play again today,” Wyatt repeated calmly.
“We’ve made accommodations to allow for this addition to our schedule. Do you not think it’s a little rude not to take that into consideration?” Dad’s voice got louder. Not by much, but by enough that I noticed a couple of people in the gym turn to look at us.
“Dad, we didn’t change anything to allow for this,” I added quietly. I wasn’t going to let him make it sound like we’d moved heaven and earth in an attempt to guilt Naomi into playing when she clearly wasn’t up for it. She hadn’t even lifted her head while this conversation happened around her.
“That doesn’t detract from the fact that she made a promise. A commitment.”
“As I’m sure you can appreciate, the biggest commitment they make is to themselves, and sometimes that means not playing one match to ensure they have longevity. I can’t in good faith let my sister play again today, or she might hurt herself and ruin the rest of her season.”
Dad scoffed. “She hasn’t had much of a season to begin with.”
“Dad,” I warned.
“All the more reason to ensure she can play for the rest of it. I’m sorry this hasn’t worked out for this tournament. But at least once you’re done with press now, you won’t have to go through all this again.”
Wyatt was still the epitome of calm, not even flinching under my dad’s withering stare. When Wyatt didn’t blink, he conceded defeat and turned his attention to me.
“Speaking of which, Sam, we’re due in press soon, so wrap it up.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. I need to withdraw us from the doubles first.”
Dad frowned. “I see no reason your partner can’t do that.”
I looked at Naomi again. Her head was raised now, legs still moving, but her jaw was clenched, and her shoulders were nearly touching her ears. She still looked like she needed to be in bed, but she also had a bunch of press to do before she could even get off site.
Press that was going to want to dissect her to pieces enough as it was, considering her loss and then the doubles withdrawal.
If the call came from her, then she would probably get a harder time for it than if I did it.
And it would become a bigger story than it had any need to be.
I didn’t need that, and Naomi definitely didn’t.
I was the key to mitigating the aftermath.
“Because I’m going to do it, Dad. It’s not gonna take me long.”
Clearly, he saw the same thing in me that he saw when I initially told him I was going to play with Naomi, because he let it go, and with a nod, he walked away.
“Thank you,” Naomi said quietly when he was gone. She’d managed to sit upright and was drinking more electrolytes.
“It’s not a problem. Are you gonna be okay?”
“In about three days, I’ll be fine again. Sorry we couldn’t play together.”
I shrugged as I climbed off my bike. “We’ll try again in New York.”
Interviewer: You had to pull out of the mixed doubles, which you were due to play with Naomi Sullivan. Was there any reason for that?
Sam Reed: I felt a niggle during my match, which I didn’t want to risk by playing again, just in case.
Interviewer: And it had nothing to do with Naomi losing? She didn’t look like she was playing her best today.
Sam Reed: No, she was ready to go, but respected that I needed to protect my singles run. We’re looking forward to New York.