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Summary
“Patrick,” Tashi spits out, and Art flinches like she burned him, “I’m talking about fucking Patrick.”
“Well, I hope you’re not talking about fucking Patrick, that’s very inappropriate,” Art jokes, because he can’t help himself. Tashi doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even really smile, but she relaxes, her body releasing all her tension all at once. Art relaxes too, pulling them both back down to be face to face lying down. “What did Patrick do?” Art asks, before frowning and continuing, “Other than, like, everything.”
Tashi sighs. She kicks her feet a bit. She’s acting like Lily, Art thinks affectionately, because he never gets to see Tashi like this anymore, whiny and childish and so distinctly herself, without all the show and competition and manipulation and power plays of tennis and business.
“You always had each other,” Tashi whispers, barely audible, “You were partners, you had each other's backs.”
And Art, for one of the first times in a while, has zero clue where she's going with this.
(Art is talking about tennis, and Tashi is talking about everything else. It feels like an ending, but it's a good one, promise.)
Series
- Part 2 of are we still talking about tennis?