Matchpoint

Chapter 40:

Dom's doing well. As per usual. He's calm, composed, and even showing a bit of charm out on the court. Flashing smiles and pointing his racquet playfully at fans.

It's looking like an easy match. Rune is getting frustrated. The dummy has certainly been thrown a few times. He's broken two racquets and relieved three verbal warnings.

I don't know what it is, but everything Dom does seems to pisse Rune off.

Dom has the first set, and he and Rune are in tight contention with each other for the second.

Meanwhile, on the outside court, I'm getting updates from the risk taker himself, Jayce Moore. After chasing down the golden girl, Jayce attempted to talk to Holly, though it didn't really go the way he'd planned. She still let him join her on the court as the familiar face in her box.

She's currently down a set and looking to lose the second as well. I feel bad for her, but Zheng was never going to be an easy component.

Dom slides across the court, his movements fluid, as if he's dancing across ice. His arm is stretched. Racquet poised. It's clear Rune has no chance.

"This is bullshit!" Rune yells in his Danish accent. He moves his arm down to the ground slowly, mocking the act of smashing his racquet.

"Verbal warning, Rune." The umpire speaks into the microphone. Dom's eyes find mine in the box, and he grins once more. He knows the impact he's having on Rune, and he likes it.

I have to suppress my smirk, as always. Dom just keeps on showing up. He's playing better than ever. And if I'm being honest, I can see Dom winning this tournament. If he does, it's straight to the top three.

In fact, if Dom wins this, he'll play Alex in the semi-finals. Now that'll be an interesting match for me to watch.

Another game to Dom. It's 3-2.

"He's getting cocky again." Stack whispers beside me, my eyes flicker over to her in questioning. "Back with his old coach, Dom would get comfortable and smug. It wasn't a good look."

"I think it's different." Philip cuts in over Stack. "It's not cocky in the way his old coach instilled in him. It's pride, a sense of belief in himself that I watched fade."

"I suppose," Stack muses.

"Our boy is flourishing, and it's all thanks to our hot shot over here." Philip winks at me like a proud father.

"We're a team." I smile in return, taking in the three of them sitting beside me. We all exist in Dom's life to influence him in the best way possible. Philip is all health and nutrition. Without him, Dom wouldn't have a balanced diet. Paul is skill and strength. Without him, Dom wouldn't have half of the strength he has now. Stack is his organiser. Without her, Dom wouldn't have consistency or a schedule. He wouldn't even have sponsorships.

"Yes, indeed we are." Paul smiles at us all, his eyes turning back to Dom as he makes an ace.

I often think about Dom's old coach. I wonder when Dom will be required to make another appearance in court, same with Stack.

Whatever the outcome, I just hope I can be there, support him, and Stack.

The tennis world, it's brutal. No one ever really knows until the news comes out. Jelana Dokic for one. But her story isn't the only one. It's countless players, countless coaches, countless incidents. Strength doesn't just have to be physical. It's also mental, and many of these players have had to develop mental strength through trauma.

Dom scores once more, his fists pumping with each small win. I'm transfixed by the way he swipes the sweat from his forehead with his sweatbands. So casual, so calm.