Give me a day or two.

Your texts with Tashi were always short, to the point. Almost as if she was thinking far enough ahead to not have any psychical proof of what the two of you were doing. The two of you reconnected at a party, a few months ago, you don't remember which— there's too many in the tennis world. You felt like you were bothering her, until a couple drinks in and she was pulling you into an hallway, crashing her lips to yours again for the first time in years.

You could tell she was lonely, somehow lonelier than you, despite her being the one who was married. Did she know you were right there, waiting for her? Waiting for her to pull you into her life. You wished you could be there for her, outside of the ways you currently were, wanted more. Ached for more, than a secret in hotel rooms. But, you took what you could get with Tashi, you'd be her secret if it meant you were hers.

It wasn't that you didn't feel bad, Tashi too, but somehow it didn't outweigh the way you both felt when you were together. The late night conversations in each other's arms, the secret glances at events, the rare time she'd call you when she missed you. It was intoxicating. There was something about Tashi that you never wanted to let go of.

407. The Ritz.

The text you'd been waiting for, for two days. It was almost pathetic, how quickly you dropped everything to run to her. But, as much as she'd never admit it, she did the exact same for you. Sending Art to extra drills, dropping Lily off with her mom, just so she could have an hour or two with you.