The spark // Art Donaldson

003. Guilt

Abuse, implied sexual activity

Cadell, 2019

 "Can't you just stop being such a tryhard?" Alex's voice echoed through the training court. It was empty, with everyone enjoying their days off before their next match in the challenger. But Cadell couldn't do that.

Cadell's chest tightened as Alex's harsh words reverberated through the training court, drawing the attention of their fellow players. She bit her lip, swallowing back the retort that threatened to spill from her lips.

"You're always just trying to beat me. Fuck you're so annoying."

Cadell stayed silent, letting his anger abate. They had been training for the men's challenger that started two days after the womens, which was tomorrow. Cadell didn't have another match until two days after that, so she was rallying with her boyfriend. Well, she was trying. He simply couldn't keep up with her. Every few seconds, the ball would thud to the floor, leaving her disappointed. Playing with him didn't even feel like playing tennis. Playing with him didn't give her the adrenaline she wanted.

There were so many times she wanted to just scream at him. To curse at him and walk away. But she knew she probably deserved it. She deserved to be with someone like him.

After all, only he could love someone as unwanted as her.

"I'm sorry. I'll do better."

"Damn fucking right you should," he grunted. He served the ball, and this time, she ran towards the ball but purposely missed it.

"Fuck why are you so fucking bad? Can you not just be normal?"

She sighed as he swung his racket towards her from across the court. She dodged it and heard it crack against the ground.

"I'm going to bed."

As Alex stormed off the court, his angry footsteps fading into the distance, Cadell was left standing alone amidst the quiet stillness of the training court. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her racing heart.

For a moment, she stood there, allowing herself to bask in the silence, relishing the solitude that enveloped her like a comforting embrace. And then, with a determined resolve, she turned her attention back to the tennis court, her eyes alight with a newfound determination. With each swing of her racket, Cadell felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the familiar thrill of the game washing over her like a wave crashing against the shore.

It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, leaving her feeling lighter, freer than she had in weeks. As she moved across the court with effortless grace, her muscles singing with the exhilaration of movement, Cadell felt a sense of liberation wash over her.

Here, on the tennis court, she was in her element, her worries and fears melting away with each powerful stroke of the ball. With each passing moment, Cadell felt herself growing stronger, more confident in her abilities. She pushed herself to her limits, her determination unwavering as she chased after the fleeting sensation of victory.

She felt happy. Carefree. Blissful. All without those goddamn drugs.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the court, Cadell found herself lost in the moment, her mind clear and focused, her heart soaring with the sheer joy of playing tennis.

Her sweat dripped, leaving her soaked and feeling physically disgusting. But mentally, she was still basking in the warmth of the euphoria of tennis.

Exhausted, she pulled herself off from the floor and put her tennis racket back, making her way out of the court.

...

She went home and unlocked the hotel room to hear moans.

"A-alex!" A feminine voice whimpered. She could hear Alex's groans, hear the creaking of the bed that Cadell and Alex usually shared.

Cadell tried to stop the breaking of her heart at the knowledge that he was doing it again. After he promised he wouldn't.

"Hey, baby!" She yelled, as she walked into the room, staring the couple right in the eyes. It was selena, the girl from her first tennis match.

For a moment, there was chaos in the room—shouting, crying, pleading. But through it all, Cadell remained silent, her gaze fixed on Alex as he tried to explain himself, to offer up excuses and apologies that she knew she would never be able to accept.

"Cadell, I swear... I swear it's not what you think."

She stood there, looking at his bare chest and the crumpled bed sheets, arms crossed, "really." she raised a brow.

His eyes welled up with tears as he crawled towards her.

"I swear, she took advantage of me. Baby, you know I would never do that to you. Never willingly." He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Once again, for the hundredth time, she let herself sink into his arms. She let his lies wash over her, even when she knew with a chilling clarity that he was twisting the story. Twisting it like he had every single time she found a woman in his bed. But every single time, she chose to believe those lies.

Their relationship was complicated. He dated her because she was forgiving. He knew that whatever he did, she would always come back to him. And she did exactly that because of guilt. Guilt at knowing she was worthless when it came to anything other than tennis. Guilt at knowing she had to rely on drugs to keep herself happy. Guilt at knowing her heart still hadn't moved on.

So the two of them were just... toxic.

His hot breath tickled her neck as he nipped her ear. She leaned her face into the crook of his neck, trying to feel something in his embrace. Trying to feel safe, like she did with...

His hand drifted up towards her neck until she felt a hand grip her braided ponytail and jerk her head back painfully until she was facing the ceiling. It hurt, and she winced as she tried to swat his hand away.

"Shh, don't fight it," he whispered. He forcefully tugged off her elastic bands, unravelling her hair.

"That hairstyle turns me off so bad. I don't know why you wear it so much."

She stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

He had thought she looked pretty.

Well, it didn't matter what he thought anymore. Not when he had a wife and kids.

A tear slipped down her cheek at his words. It was a harsh reminder that she still wore that same hairstyle every day, just because a man who loved someone else said she looked pretty in it. She was so... broken from something so long ago.

He kissed her tears away, moving a hand up to caress her cheek almost tenderly.

"You look much better with your hair down."