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Page 17 of Game Point (Game, Set, and Match #2)

Oliver shook his head once. ‘I’m not competing.’

‘Why not?’ I searched his face for an answer. He had said he wanted to lie low for a while, regroup back home in London. Last time I checked, London was not anywhere near Beijing.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘So, what was the ten-hour flight was for?’

He lifted his palms, waving them in jazz hands as he weakly replied, ‘Surprise?’

Biting my lip, I fought the small laugh, instead shaking it away.

‘Oliver.’ Saying his name, and having him look over at me … it felt like such a strange moment. His presence through a phone screen had been enough, but now in person, I felt helplessly swept up in his orbit, as if my body moved closer to him of its own accord. ‘Can you tell me the truth?’

He swallowed, his thick Adam’s apple moving, my gaze caught on the motion.

His hand moved from the rail, pushing back through his hair.

‘I’ve been thinking, for a while, about taking a break from playing.

’ I nodded, seeing how this piece of information fitted perfectly into our conversations.

‘And Jon suggested I’d make a good coach. ’

‘Coaching?’ I blinked, ‘Is that something you think you’d want to do?’

‘Maybe …’ He trailed off, his body straightening as he found his confidence. ‘Yes. I think I’d be good at it.’

Oliver had been a great player, winning the US Open as recently as just over a year ago.

It was a huge feat, and to retire from playing so soon after …

he could still have another win in him, potentially more.

But with everyone talking about my potential , I knew how exhausting that was to hear.

And more than that, if he didn’t think his heart was in playing anymore, if he was exhausted by it, like he’d been telling me, maybe this was a good move.

‘I could see that,’ I said, thinking of all the advice he’d given me, the reassurance and positivity. ‘You could do really well as a coach.’

His expression broke into a small smile. ‘I thought I’d come along, stick with Jon and Scottie, see how they work together. Get a sense of the women’s competition.’

‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘I’m … I wanted to see how you were.’ He shrugged, his gaze tearing from mine. ‘Truthfully, I’ve been worried.’

‘Worried?’

‘Brooke, the things you’ve been saying …’ he began to list, but I cut him off.

‘I’ve been complaining to you, Oliver. I make jokes.’

‘Honestly, has any of it been a lie? A stretch of the truth?’ he asked.

I didn’t answer him, I couldn’t. As much as I’d been venting to him, getting how I’d been feeling during my training off my chest, I had been honest.

‘Why are you still working with her?’ he added on an exasperated breath. ‘Like, come on, it’s not supposed to be this hard.’

The answer to this came easily to me. ‘I promised Imogen.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Foster? God, you Australians.’

I managed a weak smile, ‘We stick together.’

‘Do your reunions have BBQs or something?’

‘The snags are insane.’

‘What’s it going to take, huh?’

‘For what?’

He inhaled deeply, clearly apprehensive as he searched for the right words. ‘For you to realize Brooke isn’t going to help you.’

‘And what, you are?’ The words escaped me before I could stop them. I shook my head. I’d burned through too many coaches in my career to know that I needed to give Brooke more time. ‘I need to see it through.’

‘Yeah, but to what end?’ he said. ‘Everything you tell me about her, it’s a red flag.’

I bit my lip again, and I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes latched onto the movement, my breath hitching slightly at the realization.

I found my words, his eyes matching mine again.

‘This is my chance to prove to everyone I can do this. I got to the finals in Wimbledon and New York, and I’ve always played better on hard courts. I could win this.’

His next words felt like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over me.

‘You could also lose.’ My shoulders straightened as I managed a step back from him, the distance between us tearing open again, like a barely healed wound being cut at. He continued, ‘She could give you more shitty advice and you could lose again.’

My shaky palms ran down the soft silk material of my dress, soothing my rising nerves.

‘I need to see this through, Oliver. If I can’t win here …

’ I trailed off, losing my nerve. ‘I’ve been playing for so long, and I am running out of options here.

If I can’t do this, if I can’t even win here, I don’t know if I’ll make it to Melbourne.

I’m exhausted and this pressure, it’s unbearable. ’

I waited for him to bring up the bet, to tell me that I couldn’t quit because I’d owe him a stupid round of drinks. Waited for him to tell me that I was being an idiot, and that I was wasting more of my potential.

Instead, he surprised me with his arms wrapping around my shoulders, my body pulled into his. The instinct to fight the sudden embrace was fleeting and instead I easily relaxed. As if I’d been starved of human touch, as if he knew exactly what I needed at that moment.

‘You know I believe you can do this, right?’ He pulled back from the hug, his head slightly hung. ‘I’m sorry for saying that.’

‘I know,’ I nodded. ‘I just … I feel like if I don’t see this through, the competition, working with her, all of it … it’s like the last possible thing I could do to win.’

‘This is not your last chance, Dylan,’ Oliver pressed. I heard his words, knew how he truly believed what he said. But the words didn’t ring true to me, not anymore.

‘I think I need it to be.’ I resolved, finally finding the words to match the feeling that had been growing for a while. ‘If I have to keep going, running on empty, I’m going to lose my mind trying to win. I want to be done with the sport long before it’s done with me.’

‘That’s how I feel,’ he admitted. ‘But I think I’m already there.’

‘I’m proud of you.’ I looked at him, the setting sun making his skin glow in the beautiful light.

His strong features had never looked so soft.

‘For knowing when to pivot. Some of us like to cling on for as long as we can. It takes a lot of strength to acknowledge when it’s time to do something different. ’

‘Thank you.’ His voice sounded a little choked up as his hand stretched out and found mine again. I tried to ignore the comfort at the touch of his palms, pushed away at the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine. ‘That means a lot.’

I smiled back at him, grateful no matter what for his friendship. We stood there, watching the sunset on the vast city around us, the sky turning pastel hues of orange and peach as the sun disappeared.

Glancing back, I tried once again to take him in. For weeks I’d only known his voice through a phone. Now, seeing him again, the weeks apart made it clear how much our friendship had grown since that first time he’d spoken to me at the party.

Clearly, our relationship was not the same. And without either of us knowing it, everything was about to change.

OLIVER

Good luck on your match today!

DYLAN

Thanks! Who are you watching?

OLIVER

You of course!

DYLAN

THAT LAST SHOT!!

OLIVER

That’s a tournament highlight for sure!

DYLAN

Thanks! I was a little proud of that one.

OLIVER

Did she cry?

DYLAN

I felt bad …

OLIVER

I’m not sure I believe you.

DYLAN

Want to celebrate?

OLIVER

What did you have in mind?

DYLAN

They added 13 going on 30 on Netflix.

OLIVER

I didn’t take you for a romcom girl.

DYLAN

Didn’t take you for a vampire boy either.

OLIVER

I’m never going to live that down, am I?

DYLAN

NEVER!

(call: 04:20:05)