Page 78 of Risky Match
“Excellent. I wanted to discuss your plans for the rest of the tournament.”
“There is no rest of the tournament. I forfeited the match by collapsing.”
She has lost her mind. Didn’t she see what happened? If not, they’re replaying it on every news channel. She can watch me collapse on court and be carted off on a gurney.
“I mean the mixed doubles with Brianna.”
“After the way I treated her yesterday, I doubt she’s speaking to me, much less wanting to play as a team.”
“She understands you went through a frightening experience. While I’d suggest apologizing for your rude, cold behavior toward her, I know she wants to continue playing doubles with you. And you need to play a match at Wimbledon again as soon as possible to work past any lingering fears. Theworst thing you could do is wait until next year to play on these courts again.”
After the way I treated Bri, it’s hard to believe she could forgive me, even if I offered to play tennis with her.
“Really? You think she wants to play. Even if she does, I’m not sure I should? I was in hospital yesterday. How can we expect to win after that? Won’t losing be more fodder for the press? The headlines will say I even choke in doubles at this tournament.”
I don’t mention my concern about having a panic attack on court.
“Are you kidding? The press is singing your praises based on the rumors you plan to continue playing after being poisoned. When you show up and play with Brianna, they’ll crown you as the new Superman. You have nothing to lose, which also means that you’re unlikely to suffer a panic attack during the match. Am I correct that’s what you’re really worried about?”
“You know me too well, but I guess that’s your job. I hadn’t thought of it like that. And I don’t really want to let Bri down. I’ve been feeling guilty about planning to walk away. Her dream would die with mine.”
“That’s yet another reason you need to play tomorrow.”
“You’re right. Where’s Bri? We need to talk.”
“You do. I think she’s in the study.”
I nod. I’m not sure I can fix things with Bri, but it’s worth a shot. After all, she told me to think it over last night as she left my room. Let’s hope that means she’ll give me another chance even if it’s just for the sake of playing our match.
Thirty minutes later,I’m showered, shaved, and dressed. I feel almost normal—at least physically. Mentally, I’m struggling. There’s nothing like facing my own mortality, failing to win Wimbledon yet again, and realizing what a jerk I’ve been to the people who care about me.
I need to find Bri. It’s time to repair the damage I’ve done to her, if that’s possible.
I slowly make my way downstairs, rehearsing my apology.
Peering into the study, I see Bri sitting on the sofa, staring at her tablet. I hesitate to interrupt her, particularly when I haven’t come up with any magic words to make things right.
But waiting won’t make it easier, so I force myself forward. “Bri, can we talk?” I ask tentatively.
She looks up. “Sure. Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
As I sit in the chair across from her, I search her face for any sign of hope. All I see are her sad eyes and her lips pressed into a tight line. Clearly, she’s not eager for this conversation. I can’t blame her.
“Did you think about what we discussed last night?” she asks.
“Yes, and much more. First, I’d like to apologize. I’m so sorry for how I treated you yesterday and the horrendous things I said. There’s no excuse. You’ve been such a wonderful person. I’ve even wondered if there could be more between us. And now, I’m not sure what to say other than to express my sincere desire to make this up to you.”
“Does that mean you’ll play our next match?”
“It does. And I’d like your help with apologizing to Fausto. I had these wild ideas that he picked leaves from the garden to prepare his sauces. But any trained chef would know not to cook with oleander. I just wasn’t thinking clearly. I know he isn’t the person who poisoned me.”
“I’d be happy to translate. He deserves at least that,” she says with a neutral expression.
I suspect that her true emotions are hiding behind this practiced princess pose. The dig is there though, and I can’t argue with her. I’ll also let the rest of our housemates know that I don’t blame Fausto. His reputation shouldn’t suffer because of my outburst.
As for patching things up with Bri, all I can do is share my truth.
