Page 179 of Double Fault

Watching Noah on the court will never not be nerve-racking.

Maddie squeezes my hand as our heads swivel from side to side. It’s the final match, and Noah and Elias are battling it out. Their rivalry is still alive and well, but these days, they’re good friends.

“This is intense.” Lucy sits beside me with my goddaughter, Grace, strapped to her chest and fast asleep. She’s almost a year old, but she still loves it when either of her mamas wears her.

I grasp her hand with my free one. “You have no idea.”

Noah and Elias are neck and neck. Elias has grown on me this year, but obviously I want my boyfriend to win.

My boyfriend.

We made things official a year ago, yet I still get giddy over that term. I never expected to fall for a man like Noah. Hell, I never knew men like Noah even existed. But he’s shown me day in and day out that true love exists and that I’m deserving of it.

“Come on, Noah,” I whisper. “You’ve got this.”

When the long rally comes to an end and the point goes to Noah, I clap loudly so he knows I’m right here where I belong, cheering him on.

When play resumes, my anxiety surges, making my chest ache.

For the rest of the set, I’m practically on the edge of my seat. The US Open is a best-of-five format. Elias and Noah are so evenly matched that they’ve played all five.

“I’m stressed,” Maddie says, her back ramrod straight and her knees bouncing.

Warmth blooms in my chest when I take her in. It’s been one of my life’s greatest privileges to watch this girl go from a curious and fun eight-year-old to a still curious and fun bookworm who’s about to hit double digits. It makes my teacher heart happy that she’s found a love of reading. It keeps her entertained during boring travel days and in the time before and after matches, while all we do is sit and wait. I still homeschool her, and I also teach a group of five kids online. My roster may be small, but I love it. The format allows me to better cater to their individual needs than I could in a traditional classroom.

“I am too.”

“At least I have new stickers.”

I laugh. That she does. She picked up a pack of sparkly, glitter pink smiley faces at the drugstore this morning when we ran in for snacks.

“Al,” Lucy says to her wife. “I think I like tennis now. This is way more interesting than I thought it would be. And they’re so sweaty.” She turns back to me and lowers her voice. “I might not want to be with a man, but even I can appreciate a sweaty, hot, well-muscled man.”

“I’ll make tennis lovers out of you both. Give me time.”

Noah and I play for fun and even though I still don’t have a full grasp on things (the point system will probably never make sense to me), I enjoy it.

This is the first time Lucy and Alyssa have come to a match and they sure did pick an exciting one.

To our left, Ebba says, “If my brother loses, he’s going to gripe about this for ages.”

Her mother swats her gently. “Shush. You’ll make them think your brother is a sore loser.”

“But he is,” Ebba insists in a hushed tone.

Down on the end of our row, Whimsy, Elias’s ever-trusty assistant, snorts, though she tries to brush it off as a cough.

The game goes into a tiebreak, and acid churns in my stomach. I take deep, calming breaths, but it does nothing to slow my racing heart. I don’t think a day will come when I don’t get worked up watching him play.

It happens so fast that it takes a moment to realize that it’s over.

Noah sinks to the ground, hands splayed and head pressed to the court, almost like he’s praying, while Elias drops his head and shakes it. At first, it looks as though he’s upset, but then I swear I see his lips turned up.

“He did it!” I clap and cheer, so incredibly proud of my boyfriend as he shakes Elias’s hand, then moves on to greet the umpire. He’s worked so hard, and it shows.

Tears spring to my eyes as he accepts his trophy, and they continue to flow as he gives his speech.

That’s my man.

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