— They were all your friends then. Tashi, Art, Patrick.

Tashi told you about that night in the hotel room, you went and watched Fire and Ice play against each other, head to head for her number. Patrick won.

Art started pursuing you then, when you joined him and Tashi at Stanford. It got complicated at time, you knew where his heart really lied, who he would gaze at longingly during parties or hangouts between the four of you whenever Patrick was in town.

Tashi injured her knee, you were on the opposite side of the net. You ran to her, gasping out apologies. Art sprinted down, like a fucking knight in a shining red polo. It was horrific, you could barely process it when they took her to the medical room. After that, Tashi blocked you, switched hitting partners, stopped interacting with you completely. It didn’t hurt, you knew she needed someone to take her anger out on— you just happened to be on the other side of the net.

What hurt most was Art’s response. Calls went unanswered, texts ignored, skimped out on hangouts, then eventually the text came on a Sunday night before the end of the semester. “We should stop seeing each other. Sorry.”

Their engagement was on the sports channel three years after graduation.

You’d been in Atlanta for the US open, unknowingly, checking yourself into the same hotel as your former best friend and ex-situationship. Also, unknowingly, plopping yourself right into some deep shit.

Just a drink to calm your nerves for the finals. That’s what you told yourself when you left your room late at night to go down to the all-included bar.

‘Just a drink’ turned into running into those familiar blonde curls attached to a head with defeated, sad, blue eyes. Art. You knew he was competing in the men’s finals, you’d just hoped to God Atlanta would be big enough to avoid him. Apparently not. He joined you for a drink, it was awkward, of course. Something was on his mind, you could tell by the way his thumb wouldn’t stop twirling his wedding bands. He told you he came downstairs to find Tashi, saw her and Patrick together, got distracted and then whoosh they were gone.

Just a drink turned into two, Arts puppy eyes staring at you like you were holding the stars in the sky. “What?” He shakes his head, one hand covering his lips.

“Nothing… you, you just look good. I missed you.”

Bullshit.