Page 57 of A Follow-Through in Faking
I think she’s frustrated with her body.
“What do you suggest?”
The answer lies on the tip of my tongue.
And it practically flies out of my mouth because this is what I want more than anything else at the moment.
I want to take the pressure and load off her shoulders.
I want to give her a way to keep playing, keep partaking in tournaments, while also allowing her to slow down a little.
And most of all, I want to prove to her that my career doesnotmean more to me than hers.
This is finally the way I can prove it to her.
“Play doubles with me in the next two tournaments.”
Chapter 24
Catalina
Mymouthissowide open, there is no way I will be able to close it unless I use the palm of my hand to press it shut again.
My back is still aching and uncomfortable, but at least the spasming has stopped.
Santiago is right.
I need to slow things down. I have to think about the big tournaments, the grand slams, if I want to win them, and if I played doubles, it would be less on my back because I could perhaps rely on Santi more. I wouldn’t have to serve as much as I do during singles matches.
Damn him for giving me an option I’m actually considering.
Well, at least before I remember a very important detail.
“Very funny, Santi. You can’t possibly play singles and doubles at the same time. It’s too much,” I say, shaking my head at him.
“I wouldn’t. I’d only play doubles with you.” I snort, but the sound dies out when I see how serious he looks.
He’s still got his hand on my arm, and that single touch is enough to keep me in place. Sat on this tennis court where I just fell to my knees in pain. Staring at Santi as if I’ve never seen him before.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve by giving me this ‘option’ when we both know you wouldn’t go through with it.”
“Yes, I would. Let me prove it to you. Let me show you what your career means to me.”
His amber eyes are full of determination and hope, as if he’s begging me with a single gaze to play doubles with him. To allow him to do exactly what he said he wants to: prove that my career means a lot to him, too. That he wants me to succeed.
“Why would you do this?” I ask, leaning away from him because I’m too shocked to jump at the opportunity.
It won’t count toward my points in the singles rankings, but I could still play in tournaments. I wouldn’t have to feel like a huge failure, not like I would if I didn’t play in the tournaments. I could still win prize money to support my family.
“Because I care about you, Catalina. I thought that was obvious,” he replies, making me snort.
“You are extremely good at faking this relationship, I will give you that, but I don’t believe it has gotten to the point where you would prioritize me over you,” I say, and Santi frowns instantly, his sunshine smile nowhere to be found.
“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but you can’t possibly still believe this is fake.” His words would have me stumbling back if I was standing. “Cata, I have no idea what the fuck I’m feeling, but it’s real. Yes, I’m taking you on dates to keep up the image, but I’m also taking you on dates because spending time with you makes me happy. Not the superficial type of happiness that leaves minutes after you’re finished with whatever you were doing. It’s the type of joy thatlingers and every time you recall the event, it makes you giddy all over.”
My heart retreats to the deepest part of my body to keep from getting affected by his words.
“I don’t constantly look at you when you sit in my box during my matches because we’re supposed to be fake dating. I do it because the mere sight of you calms my anxiety. It’s so rare for me to find anything that can comfort me when I deal with my anxiety, and I don’t know why you, out of all people, have this strong effect on me, but that isn’t a question I need to find an answer to. It’s enough for me to take things for what they are instead.”
