Page 39 of Game Point
My eyes narrowed. ‘Does that mean you are competing? Why didn’t you tell me before you left?’
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 aboutmy 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’dgiven 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.’
