Sabrina, ever the push over when it comes to her stepdaughter, assures her, “I bet we can make that happen.”
I spot Noah and Fisher headed our way. They’re in a deep conversation and Fisher gesticulates wildly as he speaks.
My heart lurches at the sight of him. My whole body instantly perks up like a sunflower stretching to feel the sun’s rays.
I know I’m letting fear hold me back.
The fear that he’ll abandon me again if something bad happens. Logically, I know that I’m the one that pushed him away. I can acknowledge now that time has passed, that he didn’t purposely ignore me when I was alone in that hospital. But those facts don’t change the way my body responds after feeling one way for years.
As much as therapy terrifies me, I know it’s what I need to do.
I owe it myself to try, but even more so I owe it to Fisher.
CHAPTER 39
FISHER
Ebba givesmy knee a reassuring squeeze. The Australian Open final is turning out to be much more of a nail biter than I anticipated. Noah plays against an up-and-coming young Spanish player. One no one would have anticipated for the final. I especially didn’t expect things to be this close.
Noah strides over to his chair during a break point and sets his racket down before scooping up his water bottle. “Stay calm,” I mutter under my breath. He can’t hear me, but I will the words in his direction anyway. “Don’t get in your head.”
“He’s got this,” Ebba assures me.
On her left, in Noah’s player’s box, her brother who lost in the quarter finals says, “If he doesn’t, I’m roasting him for months.”
A small chuckle escapes me.
The break point ends, and the guys are back on the court.
“Breathe,” Ebba reminds me a little while later.
I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.
“Sorry,” I mutter, a bit chagrined, and inhale a lungful of air. “I’m nervous.”
Noah’s ahead, but anyone who knows anything about tennis knows that the match isn’t over until it’s over. I’ve seen playerspull out incredible wins when they’re down several points. You never know what factors are going to come into play that benefits one player over the other.
I send every positive thought I can Noah’s way. I’ve never been one to dwell much on the power of positive thinking, but if there’s a chance it can make a difference here then I’m going to do what I can.
Starting the year off with a win at the Australian Open, one of the four Grand Slam events held throughout the season, would be huge for him. With him planning to retire, I want him to achieve as many wins as he can before then. I want him to go out on a positive note.
I nearly fall out of my seat during a long volley, but Noah manages to secure the point.
It’s his turn to serve and I hope he can get ahead during this time and close this match out with four sets. If it goes to five sets, things are going to get dicey because I can see the tiredness ringing his eyes.
Noah adjusts his baseball cap and then bounces the ball up and down while shuffling his feet. Tossing the ball in the air, he hits it with his racket and it’s an ace.
“Fuck yes,” I cheer quietly to myself.
He prepares to serve again. He’s locked in and focused.
“You need a drink or ten when this match is over,” Ebba says softly under her breath.
“You have no idea.” I run my fingers through my hair.
I’m wound tighter than I think I’ve ever been. With Noah’s impending retirement looming over me, I feel like success matters even more now. Sure, Elias expressed interest in having me coach him, but as much as I would love coaching the guy, there’s no way I can do it if Ebba and I aren’t together. I refuse to torture myself like that. So, that means hoping another player will add me to their coaching staff and there’s no guarantees inthis world. More wins for Noah makes me more desirable as a coach for another player, though.
As the fourth set comes to a nail biting close, I almost think Noah’s not going to pull it off and we’re going to go into a fifth, but exhaustion is getting to his opponent, his movements sluggish, and it allows for Noah to close out the fourth set with the championship point.