Page 155 of Break Point
Jacques gives the smallest shake of his head.
“You’re thinking like a boy who lost something. Not a man who’s about to earn it back.”
It lands. I can see it in Henry’s eyes. Faint but undeniable.
Jacques watches him a moment longer before nodding toward me.
“You’ve done good work with her,” he adds. “I’ve seen it.”
Henry looks away, like he doesn’t know how to take the compliment.
“You think like a coach now,” Jacques continues. “You lead. You guide. And that’s great.”
He pauses for a moment.
“But something tells me a bigger part of you still thinks like a player. And if that part’s still loud, Henry … it won’t go quiet just because you will it so.”
Henry’s jaw clenches slightly. Not defensive. Just … conflicted.
“You dipped your toes into coaching,” Jacques says, motioning toward the bed, toward me, toward Henry’s courage to keep going after everything he’s been through. “But your true strength lies on the court. And that’s not something you should throw away just because life hurt you once.”
Henry doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push back either.
Jacques softens.
Dora and I are at the edge of our seats, eyes prickling with tears, hearts heavy with feeling.
My phone rings, shattering the moment.
It’s Drew.
“Are you guys done?” he whispers unnecessarily. “Can I come up now?”
“No!” I mutter into the phone. “I’ll call you back.”
I end the call and ease back into the conversation.
Jacques looks at Henry, his voice low but certain.
“You don’t have to decide now. But I’m all in … if you are.”
Henry gives him a sharp nod.
Jacques says his goodbyes and heads for the door.
He’s halfway through yanking it open when Henry yells:
“Wait!”
Jacques turns.
“I’m in.”
CHAPTER 34
MUTUA MADRID OPEN
MAY 8, 2011
