Chapter 14
"Here we finally are — sign right there and it'll be official," Isaac said, sliding the Costel contract across the table until it sat in front of Leire.
She went still, staring at it as if putting her signature there meant accepting her own death sentence. A chill ran down her spine and she felt her throat tighten.
"Come on, honey, it's just a formality," her father coaxed. He'd traveled to Toronto with them.
"A fourteen-million-euro formality," Isaac added, beaming, and Bruno Cobos broke into helpless laughter.
In reality, it was a simple formality. Leire had already signed a preliminary renewal agreement with the brand a few weeks earlier, while Isaac negotiated the new terms, but now she had the chance to redeem herself — to say she didn't want to keep promoting a brand that made her feel invisible.
Her hand trembled when she picked up the pen, and she noticed her palms were sweating. She hadn't even found the courage to tell Kate she'd signed the preliminary agreement, and she couldn't think of any way to explain that she'd made it official.
"You'll be protected until you retire, Leire," her father went on, resting a hand on her arm. "Think of it as a guarantee for the future — with that money well managed, you'll never have to work again."
She couldn't focus. Isaac kept clicking his own pen and watching her impatiently.
She thought about Kate again — about how she wished Kate were here, by her side, helping her face the pressure these two men were putting on her, helping her find the courage to say no, to say she was tired of hiding who she was, to gather the strength she needed to be honest with herself, to make a choice and choose Kate too.
But the redhead wasn't here, and the pressure and the fear — that turning down this sponsorship would put her on some blacklist and send what was left of her career into a tailspin — were too much.
She moved her hand without thinking, and when she blinked, her signature was there, scrawled across a multimillion-dollar contract that would let her keep competing without worrying about money until she retired.
"Congratulations," Isaac said, scooping up the contract quickly, as if he were afraid she'd snatch it from his hands and tear it apart.
Her father squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her, pleased.
"This calls for a celebration," the agent went on, glowing.
"You two celebrate," Leire murmured, standing up, unable to look at either of them, ashamed of herself.
Five years ago, when she signed the previous contract, the image clause — which in plain terms meant no being seen with women — hadn't mattered to her at all.
She'd just turned twenty-six, she was single, and the last thing on her mind was relationships.
She was completely focused on her career, and anything that had nothing to do with tennis was just a distraction.
But she wasn't that Leire anymore. She was thirty-one now, her priorities had started to shift, and she had Kate.
What started as a hot, fun fling had moved forward at the same pace their feelings for each other grew, and Leire had begun to feel trapped once she realized that nothing she gave Kate was ever enough.
She still remembered the first serious conversation they'd ever had.
They'd been in Rome for a smaller tournament, and Kate had snuck into her room that night.
They were both exhausted from an especially brutal day on the court that had left them with nothing left to give, so instead of fucking like they always did, they lay down together and put on a movie and watched it all the way through.
"This is nice," Kate whispered. She was resting against Leire's chest.
"What is?" She shifted a little and they turned onto their sides to face each other.
"This." The Australian gestured between them. "You and me here watching a terrible movie at one in the morning."
"Yeah," Leire breathed, and she couldn't help smiling as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind Kate's ear.
"We could do more things together — not just the moaning part," Kate suggested, pulling a loud laugh out of the Spanish woman.
"Like what kind of things?"
"I don't know, the kind of things everyone does when their relationship isn't limited to a hotel room."
Leire's expression darkened instantly, but Kate decided not to stop.
"We've got a lot of chemistry in bed, Leire, but I think we've got it outside of it too. We could take things further, get to know each other better, make this something more serious — not just a little fun whenever we happen to be in the same place."
Leire had a ringing in her ears that cut straight through, and her chest felt so tight her ribs ached.
"You know I'm not out, Kate…"
"I'm not asking you to come out. You don't have to for us to be able to see each other outside of here. We could go grab food, meet up to train, take a walk, go to the movies — nothing two friends wouldn't do."
"You know they'd start to suspect. By the third time, rumors of a possible relationship would be spreading everywhere, and I'm not ready for that."
Kate rolled over, faced the ceiling, and put her hands behind her head.
"Okay," she said after a moment. "I get it. But I need you to clear something up for me."
She turned back toward her and ran a finger along her scar without thinking.
"Do you want to keep this going as something more serious, or is it still just sex with no expectations?"
"I like you," she blurted. "I wouldn't sleep with you if I didn't, but I'm not able to promise you anything more while the Costel contract is still running, and that's over two years away.
I'm not going to ask you to put your life on hold for me, Kate.
If you find someone else, it'll hurt, but I'll understand. "
Back then, their feelings hadn't been that strong yet.
They'd been sleeping together for months and neither of them had given much thought to anything more, not until that night.
Leire had been sure then that if things fell apart she'd miss her for a few days, but she'd get over it fast because she was already used to seeing her sporadically — and it was the same for Kate.
Until that night, she'd kept living her life and had been with other girls the same way she was with Leire at the tournaments.
"Okay, so we keep things the way they are. Sex with no strings," the redhead said, and Leire breathed out in relief — except the agreement was a failure, because both their feelings kept growing every time they saw each other, until the point where not seeing each other started to hurt.
Leire walked out of the hotel meeting room and headed straight for the elevator.
By the time the doors opened on her floor, her eyes were wet, and she ran to her room as if the only air she could breathe was in there.
She pushed the door open and let it fall shut behind her, ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, and when she looked up and caught her own reflection in the mirror, she had to look away — she couldn't face herself right now.
She'd just signed one of the most lucrative contracts in women's sports.
She should be proud, celebrating with her father and her agent.
But she hadn't only betrayed herself by doing it — she'd let Kate down too.
Until now, she'd always taken shelter in the contract as her excuse for keeping the relationship out of the public eye, and Kate had always been there, waiting, patient, accepting the scraps she was given.
How was she supposed to tell her she'd made the renewal official?
She picked up her phone and searched for Kate's name while trying to convince herself she'd done the right thing.
Any professional in her position would have signed, and Kate had to understand that.
But deep down she knew it wasn't the damn contract — she'd signed it because it gave her an excuse to avoid admitting that even without that clause hanging over her, she still wouldn't have found the strength to tell the world she liked women.
She didn't feel safe. It didn't seem fair that she should have to explain herself, and she wasn't ready to answer questions about her private life.
Instead of calling Kate, she called her friend Marta, and the moment Marta picked up, Leire poured out everything running through her head in one nearly breathless rush.
When she was done, she opened a bottle of water from the minibar and drank almost all of it while she waited for her friend to confirm what a mess she was for not having had the courage to bet on herself — to break free and live what she had with Kate without hiding.
"Have you told any of this to Kate?" Marta asked.
"I already told you — she doesn't know about the contract."
"That's not what I mean. I mean how you feel about the idea of being visible. Maybe if you explain it to her the way you just explained it to me, she'll end up understanding."
"I think deep down she's always suspected I'm a coward, but she's never said anything. She just stays there, waiting for something I don't know how to give her."
"Leire…"
Marta paused, searching for the right words.
"I understand your fear and I'm on your side, but if you don't face this once and for all, you're never going to be happy. You're in love with Brogan, and you're going to let her walk out of your life — in exchange for what? Privacy? Ask yourself this: what good is privacy if you're miserable?"
Leire wiped her tears. She'd give anything to have the kind of courage they all seemed to have — the courage Kate had had from the start, showing up openly with women, letting people stare and talk until they got bored and moved on.
She wanted to do the same: she could hold Kate's hand, let someone take their picture, let the comments explode.
What was the worst that could happen? That Costel would cancel the contract?
She didn't even know what the consequences would be, but she could probably live with them.
She knew it was that simple — and still, when she pictured actually doing it, a fear that had made its home in her body twisted her gut.
"She's going to leave me when she finds out."
"You don't know that," her friend replied, trying to reassure her.
"Yeah, I do," she said, and her eyes went wide when she heard how certain she sounded. "I'm destroying her from the inside with this shit, keeping her hidden like she doesn't matter. Everyone has a limit, Marta, and I know Kate is hitting hers."
"I don't know what to tell you. This is entirely up to you — but I'm here, okay? I'll always be in your corner."
Leire nodded without answering, and when they hung up she let herself drop onto the bed with her phone in her hand.
She opened Kate's messages to write and tell her she missed her, but ended up deleting everything, because she knew what she had to say wasn't that — it was about the renewal.
And since she couldn't find the words, she set the phone down and curled up on the bed.
She'd do it. She'd call her at some point and tell her in her own words, not through a text that would make her feel even more like a coward.
But not today. She needed her voice to be steady, needed to be calm, to explain that her mind tried every single day to get there, that she was always looking for a way to face who she was, and that she still hadn't found a way to stop feeling terrified at the thought of people staring and pointing because she wasn't the woman society expected her to be.