Page 41 of Double Fault

The few tournaments I played at the end of last year were smaller and had minimal press coverage, not to mention Annie hadn’t been gone long, so I avoided any possibility of an interview.

“Understandable.” Fisher cocks his head and zeroes in on my shirt. “Nice sticker.”

Smiling, I pat it, confirming it’s still sticking well. “Maddie gave it to me. For winning.”

“She’s a good kid.”

“The best,” I agree.

“I told the network not to bring up Annie to you unless you mention her first.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat and nod. “Thanks.”

“You’ve got a lot of support out there, you know,” he goes on. “You don’t have to run away.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t get it.” He smacks my knee and hauls himself to his feet. “One of these days you’ll figure out how many people truly care about you.”

As he lets himself out, I stay where I am, replaying his words, trying to figure out what he means.

CHAPTER 12

SABRINA

Noah makesit to the quarterfinal of the Australian Open, and when we return to the States for the upcoming Delray Beach Open, his disappointment is palpable.

Sighing, Maddie rests her chin on one hand and gazes out the large window in the kitchen that overlooks the gigantic pool and the full-blown tennis court in the backyard. Noah’s been at it with Fisher for hours now. I don’t know how he has the energy to keep going.

“Hey.” I tap my pencil against her paper. “I need you to focus.”

She turns back to me, braid whipping so fast it smacks her in the face. “Sorry.” She gives me a bashful smile, though it falls the moment she zeroes in on the page in front of her.

I set my pencil down. “Is everything okay?”

She shrugs, sucking her cheeks in, but doesn’t look up. “I guess.”

Hand splayed on the worksheet, I slide it away from her, and when she finally locks eyes with me, I give her a small smile. “Let’s talk, okay?”

Her nod is subtle. “Okay.”

“Something’s bothering you. Want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help.”

She looks out the window again. Noah’s far enough away that I can’t make out details, but I can see him darting back and forth on the court, dressed from head to toe in black.

“He’s working too hard.” Her eyes well, the hazel color more gold than green or brown because of the unshed tears. “He’s going to get hurt.”

My heart aches for this girl. “He’s a professional athlete. I’m sure he knows his limits.”

She shrugs her slender shoulders, still focused on him. “He wants to win.”

“Hey.” I stroke her cheek gently, pulling her attention away from the windows. “He’ll be okay. Your dad isn’t going anywhere.”

“I got used to having him around all the time.” She sniffles and leans over on her stool, dropping her head to my shoulder. “I’m glad I have you, though.”

I wrap her up and drop a kiss to the top of her head. This little girl knows how to tug at every one of my heartstrings.

“I’m sure he’s doing everything he can to take care of himself.”

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