Page 52 of Breakpoint

Epilogue

J az stood in the center of the court, ready to serve out the match.

She thought she had moved on from this pressure.

The crowd in the indoor arena in Singapore was on the edge of their seats, the murmurs still loud, even though the chair umpire had shushed them multiple times.

They all wanted a glimpse of history. Of Jaz Mason’s actual final match.

Even though she had announced her retirement from the professional tour after the US Open, she was one of eight players who qualified for the year-end championship tournament. She wasn’t going to play, but Dani convinced her otherwise.

They were lounging by the pool, Jaz with a book in hand and Dani doom-scrolling through her phone and when another social media post popped up about Jaz’s retirement. “Jaz, you should really reconsider playing the Tour Finals.”

She pulled down her sunglasses and looked at her love. “Huh.”

Jaz must have misheard her because it sounded like Dani asked her to come out of retirement.

Growing up in tennis, Jaz had little time for a normal life.

She was enjoying that now, vegging out by the pool.

Granted, it was hard to focus on the words coming out of Dani’s mouth with her wearing a string bikini with that much glorious skin on display.

“Jaz, it’s only three matches over six days. You’ve done too much for this game, and you deserve to be celebrated. And your last match can’t be that match at the US Open.” Her expression was hopeful that Jaz would understand the importance of playing.

“Dani, I’m good. I don’t need a parade and all the stuff. It's cool.”

“Jaz, you should get the respect, love, and admiration for everything you have sacrificed for this game. To the world, to black culture and sport. Give your fans an opportunity to really say goodbye.” Dani was laying it on thick. “Plus, let’s try to end it on a high note.”

Jaz thought about it and over the next few days, Dani played on her competitiveness of going out on a loss instead of retiring on top. Plus, the winner got five million dollars, and that was hard for anyone, even Jaz, to turn down for a few days’ work.

So this became her final tournament. The press and tournament officials were in a frenzy.

It was the exact fanfare and craziness that she didn’t want.

But she could admit, a few of the goodbye ceremonies and hearing what her peers thought of her were touching.

The really moving moments that made her tear up were hearing all the junior and younger players, especially young black girls, say they picked up a racket because of her.

It was almost surreal to understand the full impact of her legacy.

Not shockingly, she cruised through the tournament, winning her first two matches easily.

She did have a moment before this final, wondering if she had made the right decision because she dispatched the other top players rather quickly.

She was still winning and playing at a high level.

She had adjusted her training as she got older, and she could do it again to play for a few more years.

She also wondered if anything else would ever fill that high of winning.

Tennis was a hard drug to quit. But the more she thought about it, she knew she didn’t want to make more adjustments and put her body through all it took to prepare again.

The pressure, the expectations, the relentless pursuit of perfection–it was everything that she didn’t want to deal with anymore.

Because now she had Dani and everything else all faded into insignificance to what they had together.

Because every morning, she woke up next to Dani’s softly snoring body, and she couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across her face.

Once Jaz had stopped pushing so hard to control her life, the pieces had all fallen into place better than she could have dreamt.

She found someone who not only inspired her but also challenged her mentally and emotionally.

She understood now. The roar of the crowd, the flash of the cameras, the weight of the trophy—none of it could compare to the simple, profound joy of being loved, of having someone who saw her, truly saw her, beyond the lines of the tennis court.

The trophies, the titles, the fleeting moments of glory, they were all secondary.

They were just things. What truly mattered was the connection, the unwavering support, the love that anchored her every day that she got to spend with her love.

They hadn’t quite figured out certain parts of their relationship would work.

They both knew it would not be easy because Dani was going to be traveling all over the world on the professional tour.

One day she would be in Australia, the next Europe, or the United States.

But it would also give each other a bit of space sometimes, which they both agreed was necessary.

Jaz was just going to be there for her and support her in her career in any way that she needed. She was just one flight away.

Jaz would primarily be in Florida, working on her new tennis academy in Central Miami that she and Brandon were already knee deep in trying to figure out. It was an adjustment for both Jaz and Brandon not to be on tour. He was already annoying her with all his random ideas.

But Jaz knew she needed to find something else to put all that energy and competitive fire into beyond following Dani around the world.

She was even thinking about training for the New York City marathon next year.

Dani told her maybe she should just relax for a while and enjoy retirement.

But she had just turned thirty-six, and Jaz wasn’t having that.

She still had a lot of energy in the tank.

But right now, she had a final match to win.

She would get to feel that high one more time.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and dribbled the tennis ball three times before going into her serve motion, letting muscle memory take over.

She blistered the ball right down the middle, sliding off the service line.

Katarina got it back, but the ball was short.

Jaz pounced. Whack. Her forehand was a blur of motion.

The ball screamed past the net, landing inches inside the line.

“Game, set, match 6-4, 7-5, Miss Jazmine Mason,” the chair umpire announced.

The roar of the crowd erupted, a wave of sound that washed over her. She raised her arms, a slow, triumphant gesture. She had done it. She had won. She was the best one more time. A smile, genuine and radiant, spread across her face.

She looked to her player’s box and saw all the people who meant the most to her cheering with her.

Her parents and Brandon, who had nurtured her dream.

Mike, who had taken her to the next level.

Kira, who was already on her phone, already plotting to make her more money off the court than she ever made on it.

Kira had even agreed to take Dani on as a client now.

And then there was Dani. Who didn’t qualify for the year-end tournament, but was there by her side for her final match.

Dani’s arms were high with fist bumps and screaming just as loudly as everyone else.

Even though they hadn’t officially confirmed anything, almost everyone in the world knew they were a couple.

Dani posted a picture on social media of just their hands laced together, declaring she was claiming her territory from all the “thirsty” women out there looking to bag Jaz Mason.

Thankfully, the trophy ceremony here wasn’t as elaborate as the Grand Slam.

Though the tournament director spoke of Jaz’s unparalleled career, her dedication, her sportsmanship, and the indelible mark she had left on the sport.

Words like “legend” and “icon” were tossed around.

Words that she never thought would be associated with her when she picked up a racket in North Carolina all those years ago.

Finally, the microphone was extended to her. She paused, taking a deep breath, allowing the moment to sink in. Her voice, slightly hoarse but clear, filled the stadium. “First off, thank you to the tournament officials for putting on a great event and the crowd for making this moment amazing.”

She turned to her box. “Brandon, everything about this moment is because of you. He’s the only reason that Jaz Mason, that you see here today, really exists.

Thank you for believing in me when no one else did.

Mom and Dad, thank you for listening to your teenage son and not telling him to go to his room when he said your daughter could be a professional tennis player. ” The crowd laughed at that point.

“My team, Mike, Kira, and Scott, thanks for taking this crazy journey along with me and making sure I was always at my best.”

She locked eyes with Dani. Jaz never thought she would be the one to say some flowery romantic words in public, because it just wasn’t her style.

But looking at Dani, she couldn’t help acknowledging what she was to her.

“Daniela, Dani. Words cannot express the joy you have brought into my life. Thank you for putting up with me, for loving me, and for making me a better human being. I love you.”

The crowd swooned, and more flashes went off. She could see Dani starting to get more emotional, and she didn’t want to catch flak later about ruining her makeup, so she left it at that.

As Jaz stepped away from the podium, the crowd erupted once more, a final, thunderous ovation.

It was the ultimate sendoff. Jaz raised the trophy, a triumphant gesture that resonated with the spectators and the press alike.

The camera flashes erupted, a blinding flurry of light capturing the moment for posterity.

Cheers echoed, a wave of pure, unadulterated adoration.

She always loved this moment. It was a feeling like none other.

Confetti rained down, a shower of shimmering gold and silver, mirroring the trophy she held.

A small, sad smile played on her lips as she waved a final goodbye.

Her heart was heavy with both relief and a pang of mourning for the game that had defined her life.

But she knew the next chapter could be even more amazing.

Because what she had with Dani was a victory far greater than any match she could have won on the court. Something more profound.

This was about love, truth, and the courage to live authentically, no matter the cost.