Until Then. // denis shapovalov - sascha zverev

6.4 - final chapter

Willow's POV

I furiously pace back and forth. This is first and last interview of the day, and of course it's with Alex. I stare at the note cards in my hand, my fist enclosed around them so tightly that I think I might tear them apart. After some more thinking, I realized what a jackass Alex is for not texting me anything. For not reaching out to me at all. I am not the type of girl to be a one-night stand and he should know that.

I hear the door click open and my head whips over to the scrawny, little shit walking into the room. Okay, that's a lie. Alex is far from scrawny and little, but you get my point. He nods a 'what's up' to me and it takes him three strides to fully cross the room and settle into the seat across from mine.

I clear my voice and walk over to my seat, sitting down cross-legged across from him.

"Willow," he nods.

"Alex," I answer.

"Sound check," Henry asks.

"Testing, testing," I say into the microphone.

Henry nods. "Alex's mic now."

"Alex, go ahead and tell us how many times you haven't texted someone back when you should," I ask. I know I shouldn't let my emotions get in the way of my work, but I really need this.

"Sorry, what?" Alex asks, confused. "Is that a question?"

"Loud and clear," Henry nods. "You guys are good to go."

"We're rolling," Tara says from behind the camera.

"Hi Tennis World! I am Willow, today's interviewer, we're joined with tennis player and world's most ignorant, Alex Zverev."

"What?" Alex asks, glancing between me and the camera. "Is this a prank."

Tara glances at Henry and shrugs.

"No, Alex, this very much is not a joke." I say.

"What is happening?" Alex asks.

I glance over at Henry and Tara and I let out a sigh. I could waste Alex's time, but I couldn't waste theirs.

"Sorry, wrong script," I say. "Let's get started."

-

"What the hell was that about?" Alex asks, grabbing my elbow and pulling me to a corner as we've just finished filming. "I have a match in five hours, so you better tell me what the hell you pulled during that interview with me. Did I do something wrong?"

"Ah, so you're aware," I say.

"Can you just tell me what I did?" Alex asks.

As much as I want him to figure what he did on his own, he does have a point. He has a match later and it's unfair of me to play mind games. Plus, I'm not 12 anymore. "You haven't texted me back since..." I lower my voice for the next part. "Since we've had sex."

"That's it...?" Alex asks.

"Yes," I respond.

"Willow-" Alex sighs. "Sorry, I forgot."

I purse my lips as everything begins to come into place. I didn't need this, nor did I want this. I mean, yes, I wanted Alex, but another part of me isn't ready for this. If I'm freaking out over not receiving a text from a guy that I'm not even in a relationship with, I'm sure as hell not ready to commit to anything.

"I can't do this," I say. "This thing between us, I can't do."

"What do you mean?" Alex asks. "We just spent the last month together, and I've really enjoyed your presence. I want to keep 'us' going. I just forgot to text with Mischa getting in and prepping."

"I know," I nod, putting my hand on his chest. "I know. It's nothing to do with you," I say. "I'm saying that I can't do this. You've been nice to me, but I'm just not ready to jump into another relationship right after getting out of one," I say. "I'm sorry." I grab my notecards and leave the room without another word.

The rest of the day is fast. I'm running around getting cameras and microphones set up for everyone else, but I find myself free at 5. Alex and Denis' match was pushed back a bit, and I can make it to the start. I hesitate. I don't think I would be good to see either of them. I wouldn't want to distract them, and I wouldn't want to distract myself either. The stadium is large and the top is currently down, and I can look up and the sky slowly dimming and the pink clouds cover the pastel blue. Unconsciously, my legs carry me up a flight of stairs, and then another, and then another, until I am at the very top of the nosebleeds. I nod at the security guard who scans my badge and steps aside to let me in through the hallway. I emerge to the stadium that basically filled to the brink. I haven't seen it like this before and my head feels quiet all of the sudden. I can't believe I'm here, in a sea of tennis fans, with my dream job. Never did I think I'd find myself working in the sports industry growing up, but now that I'm here, I don't think I'd ever want to stop. Not only have I found some of my best friends here, but also, I've had some of the most amazing experiences. Clubbing, exploring, shopping, a full on gala, breaking into a zoo, there's nothing else I would trade the past month for.

I see Mischa in the front row, writing his interview questions. I see Andrey and Stef high-five and settle into their seats from the sidelines. And I see Diego clap and whistle with excitement. I watch Denis and Alex shake hands and return to opposite sides of the court, and Domi stead up, clapping from the Austria viewing box. And more importantly, I settle into my seat, cheering for myself, finally ready for the best match of my life.