Page 64 of Breakpoint
“Oh, I can finish itandyou.” Dani grinned. “Just give me fiveminutes.”
“Slow down there, speed racer. You need all your energy for the final,” Jaz whispered. “And I’ll definitely be in your player’s box watching you be great.”
“You think I have a chance?” Dani asked hopefully.
Jaz looked at her resolutely. “You’re here in the finals, of course you have a chance. Just play your game and know you’re capable of anything.”
Dani closed the distance between them again, placing a soft, tender kiss on her lips. It was a kiss not dissimilar from many they shared, but something about it just felt different. She hoped she would be kissing these lips for the rest of her life.
Just as she was about to deepen it, Dani pulled back. “Did we just have a third-act breakup? Like all of the romance novels you’re obsessed with?”
Jaz just laughed and shook her head. “No, this wasn’t a breakup. This was a big argument that we’ve settled.” Dani just rolled her eyes at Jaz splitting hairs because it was definitely a breakup. But before she could interject, Jaz continued, “Plus, this isn’t the third act, it’s just the beginning of this love story.”
Chapter 19
Dani walked out of the tunnel, holding the flowers both players had given, her tennis bag slung over her shoulder, to the roaring of thirty thousand fans.
Holy shit.
A rush washed over her like she had never felt. This felt different from even the semi-final just forty-eight hours ago. The crowd felt louder and the energy palpable. This was a moment that she had dreamed about, but never imagined it would feel quite like this. She couldn’t envision a better high. No wonder Jaz had played for over twenty years.
She looked to her player’s box to search for Tom. He gave her a gruff head nod, almost to say, ‘Block all this out and focus on Dani.’ Sitting beside him in her player’s box for the first time was her mom, dad, and love of her life, Jaz. Jaz looked nervous, and Dani didn’t know if Jaz was nervous for her or because of all the attention on her.
She was in the locker room when the commentators on the television panned to her player’s box. They mentionedthe murmurs from the crowd when Jaz walked in and speculated why she was there. One commentator quickly deduced that Dani was her partner. In life and not just in doubles.
The photos and video had been released the morning after Jaz’s announcement, solidifying what some suspected from Jaz’s speech that she and Dani were together. Turns out it was some random college student who had taken the video and was trying to make a quick buck. Dani guessed anyone with a phone could make a name for themselves, even if it was through outing someone and disclosing people’s personal business.
But Jaz told her not to worry or be angry about that asshole and stay locked in. Her mom agreed. Dani introduced Jaz to her parents before the match on the practice court while she was getting loose. To say it was icy was an understatement. She told Jaz how her parents had been with her throughout the tournament, and they had mended fences.
Though Jaz was still a bit salty, on her behalf, and stated clearly she hadn’t forgotten the last year and how they had frozen Dani out. Somehow they all knew not to get into anything at this moment or cause Dani any additional undue stress right before her first Grand Slam final. Jaz simply shook both of their hands and didn’t say much else this morning.
During her on-court warm-up, she tried not to pay attention to them but couldn’t help but take a few peeks at her box to see how they were getting along. Jaz’s face was a bit strained and obviously uncomfortable, but she was at least talking to her mom. It looked like they were talking about the match and tactics, as Jaz pointed to the baseline and mimicked a forehand.
The chair umpire finally called time on their warm-up and for them to get ready to start the match. Walking to the center of the court to serve in her first Grand Slam final was paralyzing as fuck. The intensity of those final few minutes brought screams and cheers from the spectators. Now, time seemed to stop, and thirty thousand people were all quiet and waiting for her to perform. To win.
Suddenly, she felt small and frail. A little isolated, like never before. She bounced on the balls of her feet, the familiar pre-match nerves morphed into something else entirely, a crushing wave of anxiety. The doubts started to plague her.
Could she continue her brilliant path on the biggest stage in tennis? Could she be the new face of American tennis and walk out of here with people saying that’s our champion? She knew winning a Slam changed your life, but an American winning the US Open was a whole ‘nother level. And now with Jaz retiring, the pressure was put squarely on her to carry the reins.
Dani wanted to come out aggressively. Win her service points and attack anything short. She started her serve motion, and her first serve went squarely into the net. The second one went long. She had double-faulted right out of the gate.
“Shit!” she muttered under her breath. Not a great start. She gripped her racket, knuckles white, but the familiar weight felt foreign, almost hostile.
She finally got the ball into play, but her footwork was off, and she hit an errant shot. Then another serve went long. The crowd murmured, causing her shoulders to sag. A cold dread settled inher stomach, a knot of fear that tightened with every missed shot. The first game of the match, and she was in her head.
Throughout the first set, Dani just moved a step or two too slow and could never get it together. She saw the blur of the yellow ball, heard the sharp crack of her opponent’s racket, but it all seemed distant, unreal.
Each point felt like a desperate scramble. Her confidence from the beginning of the match had disappeared. She doubted herself and over thought every shot, causing her to play tight and her shots to go long or into the net.
She knew Katarina would be tough. She was fast, had a crazy kick serve, a backhand slice was tricky, and she was great at the net. There was a reason she was the number one player in the world and had beaten Jaz forty-eight hours ago. But Dani was giving the match away. Her body felt heavy, her legs leaden, as if the very court was trying to hold her down. The score mounted, and the games quickly slipped away.
She lost the first set 6-1 in under forty-five minutes through a blur of unforced errors. An embarrassing showing in the final. She knew she was better than this. This was a thing she’d dreamt of, practiced for, yearned for, since she first picked up a racquet and she was playing like shit.
The crowd groaned as the first set ended so quickly, likely upset that they had spent their hard-earned money on such a bad match. Dani felt the pressure even more to get it together and give them a show. She sat down at her seat during the changeover between sets and tried to recalibrate herself. She needed to stop thinking about that last point and move on to her strategy for the next set.She looked to her player’s box and could see Jaz muttering advice, coaching from the box as if Dani could hear her through the roar of the crowd. She tried to remember Jaz’s words, to be mentally tough, and just play your game.
“Get it together, Dani,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.”
They switched sides, and once again Katarina came out swinging. She moved Dani all over the court. Katarina was playing a completely different game tactically than she had played against Jaz. She was running a clinic in precision placement and moved with effortless grace, each shot a calculated strike. It felt like every ball was perfectly on the line. Dani rested her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She could feel the match slipping away.
