Page 134 of Double Fault

He kisses me again, this one a quick peck, and then he’s gone, heading back down to the court.

When he stands on the stage and holds the trophy aloft, I burst into tears. And to think just seven months ago I thought he was insufferable.

When it’s his turn to speak, I’m a blubbering mess.

“This was a hard-fought win. Every day, I’ve worked to get to this place,” he says into the mic. “I can’t begin to put intowords what this moment means to me. For the two years I couldn’t tour, I felt as though I was missing a vital organ. When I returned, I wasn’t sure I’d ever play the same. But if anything, I’m playing better. And maybe it’s because of the time off. Because I came back more determined than ever.” He clears his throat. “I want to thank Damian. That was a hell of a game. You were incredible. Truly. Everyone, give this guy some love.”

The crowd obeys, and when we quiet down, he goes on.

“I want to thank all the people who work hard to make this event what it is. The ball boys and ball girls that are out here day in and day out. I also want to thank my team. This win might mean even more to them than it does to me. They’ve seen me at my worst and they encouraged me every step of the way as I climbed my way back to the top.

“I want to thank my daughter. Maddie Girl, you are the light of my life. I’m so proud to be your father and I can’t wait to see what sticker you have picked out for me. I want to thank my… Sabrina. I’m not easy to deal with, but you barged your way into my life and you haven’t taken no for an answer. You…” He rubs at his mouth. “You’ve brought me back to life, whether you realize it or not.”

Suddenly, my image appears on the screen, startling me. I want to melt beneath the scrutiny. With a smile that looks more like a grimace, I lift my hand in an awkward wave that brings out a chorus of laughter. My cheeks heat. Dammit. I hope they find this endearingly amusing, but I’m not sure I could blame them if they’re laughing at me.

“And last,” Noah says, bringing all attention back to himself, thank God. “I want to thank the people here today for keeping the energy up. Without you, I don’t think I would have had the drive to keep going. Thank you.” He tips his head.

As Noah leaves the stage, Fisher turns to me and shakes my shoulder. “How are you holding up after that?”

A peal of uncomfortable laughter escapes me.

He chuckles. “That well, huh?”

“Just about. Come on. Let’s go.” I take Maddie’s hand, scared I’ll lose her in the crowd as we navigate to a more private space.

When we reach a long hall for staff only, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handful of stickers.

“Which one do you think I should give Dad?”

I pick through her selection until I find a pink tennis ball holding an orange racket withTennis Champscrawled above it. “How about this one?”

“Perfect.” She clamps her hand closed and shoves the rest into her pocket. When she put the dress on this morning, the first thing she did was shove her hands in and say, “It has pockets!”

Of course she did. She’s a girl. It’s what we do.

When we’re escorted into one of the lounge rooms, Noah is nowhere to be seen. My hands still tremble from the adrenaline rush that hit me when he won. Willing them to steady, I smooth them over my dress—a pink and purple floral design that Maddie said made me look like a lollipop.

Within minutes, Noah appears. His coaches and trainers break into a round of applause and rush forward to hug him and shower him in compliments.

When the crowd around him breaks apart, he emerges from it with a smile so large I feel like I’m being warmed by the sun.

He kneels, opening his arms wide for Maddie to run into.

“I’m so proud of you.” She throws her arms around his neck.

With his eyes closed like he’s trying to memorize the moment, he squeezes her back.

She lets him go, but only so she can peel the backing off her sticker of choice and press it to his shirt.

He looks down at it, his grin widening. “Tennis Champ?”

With a shrug, she crumples the backing paper in her fist. “Yeah. You won. You’re the champ.” She pats his chest and gives him a placating smile.

“Thanks, Mads.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you.”

She loops her arms over his shoulders again and kisses his cheek in return. “I love you too, Daddy.”

He leans in close, whispers in her ear, then stands and strides over to me where I stand in the corner, wringing my hands and willing the butterflies in my stomach to settle. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from the scrutiny I was under when every camera zoomed in on me.

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