Page 59 of A Follow-Through in Faking
“Santiago,youcan’tbeserious right now,” Mamá says with irritation, but it’s Papá’s smile that makes me grin.
“I am,” I reply, feeling oddly confident and comfortable with my decision.
No part of me is scared I will regret this.
“You are a lovestruck fool,” Papá chimes in, but he finds this all so amusing, he’s having a hard time hiding that fact. “You gave me so much shit three and a half months ago about pairing you up with her, and now you’d risk your ranking for her.”
They make it sound so dramatic when I have a good buffer between myself and Renjun. Missing two small tournaments, not a Grand Slam, isn’t as big a deal as everyone thinks it is. Or perhaps for me, it doesn’t feel that way because I’ll be playing mixed doubles with Catalina. She can slow down. There are so many upsides to this decision that the downsides have faded into nothingness for me.
“What can I say? I’m a changed man.”
Changed or perhaps I’ve simply stopped lying to myself about how much she means to me. Matteo and Thomas would kick my ass and tell me they were saying I had feelings for her for over a decade, which is most likely why I haven’t discussed Cata with the crown prince of Monaco for months. Not that he has any time for me with his royal duties at the moment anyway.
I cross my arms in front of my chest, incapable of keeping the smile off my face. It’s hard not to smile every time I think of Cata now. She kissed me back yesterday on the court. She’s giving me a chance, and I’ll be damned if I don’t prove to her that I’ll do whatever it takes to earn her forgiveness.
“Go fuck someone else. I’m giving you permission. It’ll screw your head back on properly so you stop making decisions with your sex-deprived dick. Catalina is nothing more to you than a means to have sex, the only means at the moment if you think about it,” Papá says, and I’m on my feet and in his face a second later.
“I fucking dare you to call Catalina that again. You might be my father and coach, but I’ll knock you on your ass without a second thought.”
The child in me screams because I’m threatening Papá, but my heart is in charge, and it’s not having any disrespect directed toward Catalina.
My father studies me for a long time, but I don’t back down from his stare. His amber eyes, the ones he gave me, show no remorse for what he said.
Then, he places a hand on my shoulder and smiles.
“Good, I just wanted to make sure you were serious about Catalina if you’re already making decisions based on your feelings for her.”
He lets go of me and drops down on the seat beside Mamá, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek. Her shoulders untense immediately.
“Winning is important. Your ranking is important. But there is more to life than work, even if you're living your dream. Love is a wonderful thing which I was lucky enough to find. If you've found it for the first time in Catalina, I suggest you hold onto it. It may never come again for someone as anti-love as you,” Papá adds, causing the smile to drop off my face.
“I'm not anti-love. I—” I don't know what I am, if I'm being honest.
“You what, Santiago?” Mamá asks softly, genuine concern in her eyes for me.
“I have never wanted anything with anyone except for Cata. I think I've always wanted more than friendship with her, ever since we were playing doubles.” I sink into the chair opposite Mamá and Papá. “Fuck, what does that even mean? More than ten years of pining after the same person, never wanting another like I want her?”
My parents both smile, and I'm glad they do because that means they have an answer. I'm their kid. I don't know everything they do about love and life. I don't know so many things they haven't taught me yet, and I'm so grateful they're both here to teach me.
I'm very lucky.
“I think it means you're in love with her, that she is your person,” Mamá says, but it's Papá’s words that make my heart stop.
“Catalina Sanchez is your soulmate,mijo, so you better make damn well sure you don't fuck up and lose her.”
Catalina and I have officially signed up to play doubles in theIndian Wells Openand because they love how much publicity we are going to give them—playing doubles as a couple for the first time in a tournament—they didn't have any problems with our withdrawals from the singles tournament.
All they have asked us to do is a photoshoot that has Catalina nervous. She assured me her back feels much better today, but I see how stiff it must be from the way she walks. Or perhaps it's her nerves.
“Talk to me,mariquita. Does your back hurt or are you nervous?” I ask because she has been staring at the same spot on the wall in front of her for a few minutes with her shoulders slightly raised and a frown on her face.
“I don't like photoshoots. I loathe taking pictures and seeing them afterward,” she replies and I love the way she turns to me and puts her forehead against my shoulder as she groans.
“Really? Someone as beautiful as you should love seeing themself in photos. I certainly love seeing myself,” I tease to take her mind off it, and the way she snorts has me grinning from ear to ear.
“You're an arrogant asshole,” she mumbles, her words muffled because she’s still resting her forehead on my shoulder. “I hope you know I’m seeking comfort from you because of how uncomfortable I am with this situation. For no other reason,cabrón,” she says, and I take that as an invitation to give her even more comfort.
My arms wrap around her, pressing her more firmly against me. She twists her head so her face is nuzzled in the area between my neck and collarbone, her arms flying around me too. She lets out a sigh I feel deep in my bones as a smile covers my entire face.
