Page 8 of Breakpoint
Lena.
Kira had tipped her off that Lena was now working with Katarina Hajek, the current number one player in the world, and would be in Miami with her.
Her heart stuttered, a painful echo of the way it used to leap at the mere mention of her. Her first and only love. Shockingly, they hadn’t really seen each other since the awful breakup almost five years ago. She heard through the grapevine, meaning Kira, that after their breakup Lena had left the tour and was working with college athletes. But now she was back.
“I can keep her away from you.” Kira told her last week. “I can find out when Katarina is practicing and have Mike schedule you opposite that. And have my people determine if she’s around."
Jaz knew Kira had contacts everywhere and no doubt could make her carefully choreographed plan happen. And she loved her for that. “Don’t worry about it, Kira. We’re going to run into each other eventually, so why delay the inevitable?”
A wave of nostalgia, bittersweet and sharp, washed over Jaz. She remembered the feel of those hands tracing the curve of her hip, the line of her jaw. The woman who had once taped her aching muscles, soothed her injuries, and stole her heart. They met when Mike came abroad as her coach. He recommendedmaking Lena a part of the team if they were going to really lean into her fitness and training. He said if she wanted to be on top, then she needed to surround herself with the top people. Those words were definitely prophetic because Jaz later learned that Lena was definitely a top.
Initially, it was a purely professional relationship. But amidst the endless cycle of training, matches, and recovery, a friendship blossomed. Jaz found herself lingering after treatments, sharing stories about her day, seeking Lena’s opinion on things that had nothing to do with tennis.
It was nice to have another friend besides Brandon. Jaz never knew how lonely it would be at the top. That once she won a Grand Slam, and then multiple, the women on the tour would treat her differently. It was difficult in her teens coming to terms that everyone in the locker room was gunning for her and she was the one to beat. Whereby every single week, it was one hundred women’s sole mission to crush her, but many realizing they likely never would. So it was hard to make friends, especially when her main goal wasn’t to be friends with these women but to beat them too.
But with Lena, they could share late-night talks. Late-night talks turned into shared laughter, shared meals turned into shared secrets, and shared secrets turned into something neither had expected. Lena celebrated Jaz’s victories with a quiet pride and soothed her after defeats with gentle words and expert massages that eased the tension from her aching muscles.
Slowly, subtly, over the course of two years, the lines blurred. A lingering touch, a shared glance, a laughter that resonated a littletoo long in the quiet of the night. Lena’s touch would send shivers down her spine.
One rainy evening in London, after a grueling Wimbledon tournament, the line between professional and personal, that were already blurring, vanished altogether.
Jaz was enjoying the anonymity of the bustling London streets as they walked back to their hotel. She was just about to cross the street, but forgot to look right first, since the cars drove on the opposite side of the road. Lena instinctively grabbed her and yanked her into her body before she could get run over by a black cab that was fast approaching.
In Lena’s arms, their eyes met and she couldn’t look away. Something sparked in the air between them, a charged intensity that made her breath catch. She was mesmerized by Lena’s hazel eyes and warm tan skin.
In a moment of impulsive boldness, Lena leaned in and kissed her. A soft, gentle kiss that shocked Jaz, leaving her frozen and her lips still. But just when she felt Lena pulling back, Jaz woke from her stupor and leaned back in to let her know she wanted this too. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, then deepened with a hunger that surprised them both. They kissed in the middle of the street, oblivious to the strangers walking around them.
It was a revelation, and Jaz’s world tilted on its axis. It wasn’t just the physical sensation, though that was certainly exhilarating. It was the connection, the spark of recognition, that ignited something deep withinJaz’s soul.
As Lena pulled away, breathless and slightly dazed, she likely saw a mirrored emotion in Jaz’s eyes. “Gosh, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”
“Really?” Jaz couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous as Lena had been crushing on her.
“Fuck yeah, for at least a year. But I never wanted to cross that line. We work together and well, you’re Jaz Mason. That’s fucking intimidating. Plus, I didn’t even know you were queer. You are queer, right?”
That was a good question. She’d been on tour since she was sixteen, her life a whirlwind of training, travel, and competition. There had been no time for boys (or girls), no time for anything but the relentless pursuit of victory.
She put that question to the side for the moment and responded with another deep kiss. The tingling and attraction she was feeling for the first time raged through her body. She didn’t want to stop kissing her. She took the opportunity and kissed her again, well, made out, in front of her hotel room door. Thankfully, Jaz had a private suite at the end of the hall that no one else had access to. Having Lena’s body pressed up against hers was a sensation like she had never felt.
In the days that followed, Jaz found herself at twenty-five years old for the first time, grappling with a newfound awareness. She was definitely attracted to Lena, deeply attracted. This realization, so unexpected and yet so undeniable, sent shockwaves through her carefully constructed world. All her life, she had focused solely on tennis, never questioning her sexuality, never exploring the depths of her own desires.
Now, the floodgates had opened, and a whole new world of possibilities lay before her. This feeling, this undeniable attraction, was new and not something she knew how to deal with. So Jaz did what she would normally do and just let it play out.
Their relationship unfolded in stolen moments, hidden from the prying eyes of the media and the demanding schedule of the pro tennis circuit. So much of Jaz’s life was public knowledge, and she refused to allow this to be as well. It was a secret they guarded fiercely. Lena fit into her life and schedule already, so it was easy to make it work.
Years passed, filled with stolen moments and whispered promises. Jaz’s career skyrocketed. Grand Slam titles piled up, endorsements rolled in. She became a global icon. But witheach victory, the demands on her time grew. Lena remained her constant, but increasingly, their relationship was relegated to smaller moments between matches and sponsor obligations.
Jaz, blinded by her ambition and the intoxicating rush of success, failed to see the growing distance between her and Lena. The resentment, though unspoken, began to simmer. Lena loved her, but after five years, yearned for a life beyond the periphery of the tennis world, a life where she wasn’t just an afterthought. She wanted a partner. The breaking point came after Jaz won her fifteenth Grand Slam, a milestone that would forever be marred by her broken heart.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jaz,” Lena said, her voice trembling and eyes filled with weary sadness as she stared at her across their hotel room. “I love you, but I can’t be second to your career forever.”
Jaz, still riding the high of victory, was stunned. Nothing in Lena's body language said she was happy with what she just accomplished. Lena stood in the farthest corner of the suite, physically and emotionally distant from Jaz. “What are you talking about? We’re a team. We’re in this together.”
“No, Jaz,” Lena replied sadly. “You’re in this. I’m just here, watching you live your dream, while mine gathers dust.”
“Your dream was to be a physio to the best player in the world, and you have that.” Jaz shot back.
“That’s my professional dream, but I also want to be a mom. Have a home and a family.”
