“Don’t thank me yet—do you think they’ll let you play?”
“We’ll see,” I replied, looking around to see if Parisa had followed me out. No sign yet. “You sure you don’t mind us being outed in the media? I know your family know about us, but this could be a big deal for a while.”
“I’ll say,” Parisa agreed, appearing out of nowhere in her smart grey pantsuit. “You two could be the Ellen and Portia of tennis, if you play your cards right.”
I groaned and slid down the wall a little way bracing at the knees to hold myself up. “I should have known you already have a marketing strategy.”
“Wait until the first time you’re drawn against each other. The ‘love match’ headlines will be insane,” Parisa said. “Now come on, we have places to be, Elin.”
“Gotta go,” I told Toni. “I look forward to our next love match.”
“Me too,” she replied, voice warm and welcoming as ever in my ear. “Love you, bye.”
I heard the stuttering little breath after she said it, felt her panic like a palpable thing.
“Just as well,” I whispered. “Since I love you too.”
Too soon? To hell with it. I’d spent my life waiting for someone I couldn’t wait to say it to, and there she was in the form of Toni. I already knew how I felt, and I was officially over hiding how I felt. It was too important.
We’d talk later; I already knew that much. Parisa had some new endorsement deal lined up for me, and we were going to sign the paperwork at their Paris office. After that? Well, the TGV train took less than two hours to Strasbourg, I’d already checked.
Maybe next time I said ‘I love you’ it would be in person.
Toni was still on court when I arrived, but she’d told reception to get me a key card. I let myself into her room, trying not to laugh at the post-hurricane levels of mess she left lying around when she was on her own. Maybe I really was lovesick, but I liked her chaos more than my own sterile overly organised life. It felt like part of her personality was coming at me from every direction, and who wouldn’t like that?
I dropped my overnight bag on a chair and considered my options. The adrenaline of the day was starting to wear off, and the bed itself looked all too inviting. I’d never been one for taking naps, but the pillows were practically calling out to me.
When I woke up, the room was much darker and someone was stroking my cheek with the back of their fingers. “I really hope that’s you, but if not, then housekeeping is getting a big tip for friendliness.”
“You look good like this, very peaceful,” Toni said. “You wouldn’t know you just did a very brave thing.”
“Brave, sure,” I said, opening one eye. “Some would say stupid, but I like that you think it was brave.”
“I’m proud of you, you know?”
“Why?” I woke up properly at that, wriggling up into a sitting position. “I mean, thank you, but why specifically?”
“I suppose it could be because you’re so good at tennis,” Toni began, her tone as serious as her face was grinning. “And there’s all those things you do for charity. Starting up your own, even. I suppose I could be proud of you being gorgeous, and funny, and really kind even though you don’t want anyone to know it.”
“Toni…”
“But no, I’m proud that you told the world today that I’m the lucky woman who gets to date you. That was a really nice moment for me.”
I bent forward a little, kissing her soundly. “It was pretty nice for me too. Well, when the panic attack calmed down, anyway.”
“Did you—”
I shouldn’t have made light of it. I’d explained a lot over the past week together, about anxiety and how I’d been dealing with it. “No, just an expression. You’re sweet to worry, though. I have to say, being with you and all this happiness has helped with it a lot. It won’t ever go away, but my head is full of positive things, so it’s easier.”
Her phone beeped. “Sorry, let me just… Oh, we should put the news on.”
She went looking for the remote, and the screen blinked into life. We cuddled up and watched the TV-5 coverage of my press conference. I had to put my hands over my eyes. I could just about handle watching myself on court when my mother pointed out mistakes as part of her coaching, but promos and interviews, I never even looked at.
“You following?” Toni asked, her arm around my shoulders. “My French is lousy.”
“Mmm, they’re saying something about me being defiant. Oh, and also the shock news that I’m in a lesbian relationship. Okay, so…”
The footage cut to the GTA European headquarters in London. Some senior executive, not one of the three suits who’d been on my case, was being asked something while the French newscaster talked over it. Only when he spoke did she shut up long enough to let me hear the English.
“We’re very concerned that this has become a public matter, but of course the GTA has nothing to hide and we welcome questions and scrutiny. Especially from the world number one and one of the finest players the women’s game has ever seen.”
Another off-camera question I didn’t catch.
“No, absolutely, and aside from injuries it’s very important to us that the best players play in our most prestigious competitions. Elin Larsson will be very welcome at Roland-Garros, and at Wimbledon in late June, for that matter.”
Oh, the relief almost knocked me back against the headboard. Taking a stand had mattered so much, but the punishment had been weighing on me more than I could tell anyone. Beside me, Toni punched the air before kissing me on the cheek.
“You did it!” she said. “They were bluffing and you called them on it.”
“They still need to actually investigate now,” I replied, but even
