He was sure his life couldn't sink any lower, when Patrick had to move back to the Challenger circuit. Too many losses and one too many injuries found his ranking dropping down into the 200s. His confidence had took a knock, not that he'd ever let that show to the outside world. The only person who saw it, was you. You were the one constant in his life, the one thing he had to look forward to after a shitty day. Knowing you'd be there after every match, win or lose. He could come home, to your home. The little apartment the two of you shared, his safe haven. Nothing else mattered when the two of you were together, not tennis, not his pain, not anything.

August 4th, 2019. The day everything changed. It wasn't like you'd never heard the names Art Donaldson and Tashi Duncan leave Patrick's mouth, you just never thought what happened, would happen. Patrick's career sky rocketed, the second Tashi stepped in as his coach. He was back in the top 50, playing slams, winning again. It wasn't what he wanted, to leave you behind, but that's what happened. He never admitted it, that he slept with her, but you could read Patrick like no other, the context clues were enough. Enough for you to sell that little apartment, and block the name 'Patrick Zweig' from any social media you had. Not that helped his face broadcast on the news, not that you ever turned it off.

The day Patrick won his first slam, was the day everything hit him. What he lost, everything he left behind. He'd gotten everything he ever wanted, only to realise, none of it mattered. The trophy, the attention, hell, even the money. It didn't matter, because you weren't there. He didn't even know where you were, but you weren't with him. The one person who stuck by his side through everything, he'd let go. The one person he ever truly loved, he pushed away.

One new voicemail: Unknown Caller "Baby, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, please. Call me back, you were the love of my life. You are the love of my life. Please, call me back."