She, on the other hand, got adorably flustered. “Well, uh, we haven’t really planned the wedding? Have we?”
I shook my head, smiling at the idea she might have just missed the entire planning somehow.
“I mean, I wasn’t thinking about that when I asked. Yes, I did ask! Okay, uh…” Toni trailed off, her eyes silently begging me for help.
I stepped in to save her, turning the conversation back to the match ahead.
“So I’m guessing this is a first? A couple playing against each other?” I asked, as if we hadn’t already been told a hundred times.
“Well, in doubles, actually,” the presenter answered. She picked up her notes and carried on, letting us both silently heave a sigh of relief.
“We could just do it, you know,” I said, as we sat to one side in the media centre, waiting for the setup of the next promo spot. Most had been done at the start of the Wimbledon fortnight, but there was always an extra bunch of footage to hype up the finals. Some years they had the finalists read poems and other times dressed up in ridiculous costumes—it was really whatever the BBC felt like putting us through.
“Do what?” Toni asked, missing her mouth yet again with the raisins she’d been tossing up and trying to catch. Hard to believe she had a career built around her coordination.
“Get married,” I said, as calmly as I could manage. “I need to go home for surgery next week, once I’m up and walking again we could just…go do it. Before New York, even.”
“Wow.” Toni bumped my shoulder with hers. “Do you mean it?”
“I’m not changing my mind about you,” I said, turning to face her. “Win, lose, playing, retired. When you asked me, all I wanted to be was your wife. I’ve never seen the point in waiting around once I know what I want.”
“People will say we’re nuts. That it’s fast.” Toni was trying to argue, but her grin matched my own. “But I think I’m learning not to care what people say.”
“Then we’ll make a plan,” I said, kissing her softly. “After the match.”
“After the match,” she agreed. We were still smiling when they called us for closeups.
We stuck to our plan, spending the night before the final in separate houses. With all the pre-final activity, I didn’t set eyes on Toni again until we were ready to be led out on court. Just as I had with Celeste the year before, I got to lead us out.
But there was time for a quick word first, as the announcements got the crowd settled.
“Hey,” I said, not quite able to reach out and touch her. Match mode was quickly descending, and I wanted to get a little human moment in before it settled in. “You look good. Ready.”
“Elin?” She looked panicked for a second. “I know how important today is for you, but I spent last night thinking how right you are. This might be my only chance.”
I smiled. “I knew you’d get it. Whatever happens, may the best woman win.”
Toni gave a curt nod, her shoulders dropping a little in relief. Before we could say anything else, we were being led out, bouquets in our arms like every other year.
By the time we were hitting back and forth over the net, it was almost as though we didn’t recognise each other. The buzz in the crowd was different to other times, the notes of gossip underlying the cheers and applause. We were a novelty, and unless some other seeds were hooking up, it was likely to be a one-off situation. Partner versus partner, fiancée versus fiancée.
The umpire called time on our warmup rally, and I rolled my shoulders one more time. Toni had won the toss and chosen to serve first, so I got to the baseline and took up position. My hip felt good as I moved a little in anticipation, or at least it didn’t feel much of anything, which was all I could hope for.
The crowd simmered down, ready for the first play to begin. Breaking the record was in my grasp, but Toni’s stance across the net radiated a danger I wasn’t familiar with. The ball came rushing towards me, and the old instincts kicked right in. The worry and the moralising disappeared, and I swung my racquet to make the return.
Toni wasn’t kidding about her change of heart, or her commitment to what we’d agreed. She played me like she hated me and gave me one of the biggest challenges of my career. Short of the engagement ring safely stowed in my racquet bag, it was the greatest gift anyone had ever given me.
She took the first set, which got the ripples of surprise rolling around the stadium. It took a tiebreak, but she pulled it off. I was as proud of her as I was angry at myself. I should have nailed down that first set to rein her in and given myself a chance to win the match in two. No, it was destined to go to three; I could sense it the way other people could tell when it was about to rain.
The first twinge from my hip came deep in that second set, right after I broke Toni for the first time all match. She’d been serving much harder and faster, part of Mira’s coaching no doubt. If she noticed me pull up for a second, Toni gave no indication. The blankness of her expression said she was deep in the zone by that point, and I was relieved.
When I clinched the second set to level matters between us, I took advantage of the natural break to call for a medical timeout. After a cursory examination, I got my painkilling injection topped up, a
