Toni came back to join me after I insisted she use her ticket to see the match in person.
“Hey, you look about five minutes from breaking out of this place,” she said as I eased myself back onto the bed. “You pack your bag, and I’ll carry you on my back.”
I pulled her closer for a kiss. “What’s the hospital equivalent of the Mile-High Club? Want to join?”
“That would be so cute, if you could actually move.” She was still dressed up from the final, in a nice dress and blazer that I told myself I’d borrow next time I had to go to something formal.
“Cute, huh?” Always so ready with the compliments, even the silly ones. “I’m legally high right now; I could probably do the splits if I wanted.”
“Tempting, but you would pay for it later. I can be patient, and so can you,” Toni said. “Also, I think this flirting is a way not to talk about your plans.”
“I’ve planned not to make any more plans,” I replied. “Do you think it’s karma? I’ve spent all this time bitching about having to keep playing, and now the universe is punishing me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how it works. You don’t deserve that, just for feeling stuck.”
“I don’t know if this will be much of a surprise, but I want to try. I want to do the injections and the physio, see if I can get over the line in London. And if I don’t, I’ll have the surgery and try to come back next season. I did some reading this morning, and with some changes to my game it should be possible.”
“Elin, if this is just panic because they said it’s a bad injury, don’t do it to yourself. You can walk away today, now. You’re a champion; you matched the record. Part of you wants to be done already. I’ll support you whatever you decide. Just don’t put yourself through agony for the sake of it.”
Toni sat on the side of my bed, taking my hand. “You know how much I respect you, how much I would kill for your stats. But I love you, Elin. I can’t stand watching you in pain, especially if you don’t have to be.”
“It won’t be so bad, with the plan they have. I’ll stop if the painkillers stop working, but I want it. I need it, I think. Otherwise I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering ‘what if’ about playing one more slam.”
“I get it,” she said, and for the first time in my life, it felt like someone truly did. “I was planning on making Wimbledon my first slam, but hey, I can let you play.”
“Very kind of you.”
“That’s me,” Toni said. “Listen, I told Mira I’m out of Nottingham this week. I don’t think I can get out of Mallorca, but I’ll be back for Eastbourne. Did they say whether you can do that as part of your Wimbledon plan?”
I shook my head. “Rest and targeted workouts until the tournament starts. Anything else is too hard on the hip joint.” I’d woken up to a comprehensive report from Dr Huppert with the specifics of each option. “There’s no way I can win this fucked up, is there?”
“Don’t say that,” she replied. “You carrying an injury is worth most players at full strength. I’d drag you across the line myself if I could.” She took my hand up to her lips and kissed it. “And I know what all this is like, so talk to me okay? When you want to cry, or scream, or throw things, I’ll be right here.”
“At least with you I got lucky.” I moved over to kiss her again, resting my forehead against Toni’s. “They’re letting me out of here tomorrow after my meeting, where do you want to spend the week? You’ll have to keep your practice up for Mallorca.”
“Here? London? I don’t mind. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“You know they pay people to do that, right? Actually, I pay people to do that. The last thing I want is to get in the way of your career, especially now.”
“Oh, shut up and accept that I’m not going anywhere. Not this week, anyway.”
“I just had to fall for the stubborn one, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” my mother added from the doorway. “Are you two behaving or do I have to go away again?”
“You’re fine, Britta,” Toni said, moving a few inches down the bed from me. “Should I go get coffees?”
“No need,” my mother produced a tray of takeaway cups. “I see Jürgen lost. You must be happy about that, Elin.”
“Mamma, I’m going with the shots. I need to try, for Wimbledon. Can we do it?”
She set the coffees on the table by my bed and took the hand that Toni wasn’t holding. For a horrifying moment I thought she was going to cry, something I couldn’t remember ever seeing before.
“We can do anything you want. You can, äskling. Tell us what you want and we’ll get you there.”
“Do you think Pappa and Alice will come to Wimbledon? Just in case it’s my last one?”
She nodded. “Of course. We’ll arrange everything; just focus on getting better. Ezi will tell me what we can work on, but I’m not going easy on you now.”
“Didn’t expect anything less. Do you think Parisa can find us somewhere to stay in London until the tournament? Dr Huppert recommended a specialist there, and there’s a leaflet for some physio place too.”
We got lost in the chatter of travel arrangements and plans, but Toni held my hand through the whole conversation. The longer she stayed, the more sure I felt that I could do it.
I just hoped that
