She's back ~ L. Hamilton

100. | Chapter One Hundred!!!!!!!

While London felt like my second home. I've never been more glad to see a building than I was as my uncle pulled up outside my house.

I collapsed onto the couch the second I walked through the front door, and that's where I stayed for the next two hours.

Later that night, after I have unpacked, my uncle and I go over everything the doctors said when he was released from the hospital.

He instructs me not to worry anymore and then heads down the path back to his own house.

I take a shower and put on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I brush my hair and unpack some of my bags, taking out my makeup and hanging up the designer pieces I had brought with me, making a mental note to send them off for dry cleaning, and I just emptied the rest of my bags into a hamper.

I then picked up the phone and dialled.

"Hey, it's me," I say. And then I wonder why I think I can do that—act like I am the most important person who could possibly call him.

"How are you, champion?" Liam says. His voice has changed. It sounds different, even from when we spoke in London.

"I'm good" I say. "I'm really good. How are you feeling? How are your ribs?"

"Much better, actually" he says. "I think Marco and I are going to start training again. I've been doing a little bit on my own. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to having my hitter back"

I laugh. "Is that me?" I say "Am I your hitter?"

"You'll always be my hitter Del" he says with a laugh

"So you're coming to Perth?"

"Yep, I'll be there as soon as I can, I've got to get ready for the US Open after all"

The second half of the summer is a train heading full speed towards New York.

There is not much time between Wimbledon and the US Open.

My uncle has his work cut out for him, training both Liam and me, day in and day out.

He sits on the bench for my morning training sessions, barking drills at me.

After the first day, I bought him a megaphone so he wouldn't strain so hard to yell.

After I go in for lunch and to take a shower and rest, Liam usually shows up and trains with my uncle for a few hours. Sometimes, as I'm getting dressed, I watch the two of them in the backyard.

Liam and my uncle are always either passionately agreeing or disagreeing about what Liam should work on next.

The two of them bicker at full volume, Liam yelling to be heard over my uncles megaphone.

As the days pass by, I can see Liams first serve growing more and more bold, his second serve more consistent, all from my window.

Then, every day around three, I get back on the court. And Liam and I play a match.

Liam always starts off trash-talking. And then I often destroy him and my uncle gives us both a series of pointers for the next day.

After that, Liam says goodbye and hops into his car and drives off.

Me and my uncle sit down and have dinner together, then we collapse onto the couch and pick out a movie to watch, which he'll usually fall asleep within the first 20 minutes.

Then I'll cover him with a blanket before I retire back to my bedroom for the night.

Daniel and Lewis have been off across the world racing. With the season coming to an end soon every single point counts, especially because there is only a handful of races left on the calendar and they're practically drawn on points.

It's weird, hearing how the race went from two different point of views.

Lewis will call me first and I'll ask him how it went and he'll walk me through it. It's hilarious because I can always tell how angry he is about something my brother did, but he'll try to hide his true frustration, which works until I make a joke and he'll immediately go into a rant about Daniel, which I just laugh through.

Then Daniel will call me a couple of minutes later, and walk me through the race from his point of view. The only difference is that he doesn't hold back on ranting about how 'incompetent' and 'idiotic' Lewis is.

Liam and I both take Sundays off from training. We need one day to recuperate. And sometimes, in the morning, I'll watch tapes with my Uncle. But in the afternoons, as shocking as it may be, even I need a break from tennis, and I can tell that my uncle doesn't know what to do with himself.

When he's not across the world racing, Lewis starts coming over in the afternoons to play chess with my uncle on Sundays. Then it evolves into the two of them going to the cinema together and watching war movies.

During one Sunday, even though Lewis was covered was head to toe and trying to not get recognised, a guy recognised him and my uncle. That scared them enough so their weekly cinema outings turned into watching war movies in my home theatre.

They eat pop popcorn and watch movies, pausing every ten minutes to talk about historical references to World War I or II or Vietnam. And I normally sit in the lounger in the same room, only half paying attention.

It was during one of the movies that had Tom Hanks in it, that it dawned on me that our local cinema doesn't actually show re-runs of films unless it's some 10 or 20 year anniversary of it's release. Which would mean Lewis has been paying off the cinema to run war movies so him and my uncle could go and watch them on the big screen.

And as I watched the two of them talking. Lewis was sitting so comfortably in the armchair. For a split second his gaze wavered from the screen and over to me, when he caught my gaze he smiled, holding eye contact for a moment before I looked back down at my phone.

And it was in that moment, with a stab to my heart, that I realised what I needed to do.

I had a choice.

Love or Tennis.

But the answer came to me too fast.

It's the same answer I've always had.

My mother once said to me, 'it's your blessing Delaney, but also your curse. You'll never love anything as much as you love tennis'

And I never quite understood fully what she meant when she told me that.

But it was in that moment that I understood exactly what she meant.