Edward:
A knock at my door startles me, and I groan into my pillow, sincerely hoping that Emmett hasn't decided to revoke my Sunday off from training.
My muscles need the rest!
I slowly wander over to the door, praying to all the gods I can think of, hoping that it isn't Emmett. I might punch something if it is him.
"Oh, hey Ange," I smile warmly at my sister as she steps inside.
Thank the lord!
"Hey big brother, how are you today?" Ange asks as we walk into the kitchen.
"I'm alright. Making the most of my day off," I grin. "Drink?" I offer.
"Orange juice, please," Ange says, sitting down at the counter. "So, I didn't just come round for the hell of it. I had my first sonogram today, wanna see?" She pulls out a picture from her bag, sliding it across the counter to me.
I hand her a glass of orange juice and then pick up the picture, squinting at the blobs.
"Um…what's the baby?" I frown, remembering past sonograms I've seen on TV programmes, where the baby looks a lot more…human.
Ange laughs before pointing out one of the larger blobs, telling me that's the baby. She also goes on to explain how it's not very developed yet, since she isn't very far along.
Eventually we move into the living room, Angela complaining that the bar stools are too uncomfortable. Despite the fact she said she came just to show me the picture, I feel like there's something else she wants to talk to me about.
"So…" she begins, pausing to take a sip of her juice. "The girl…" she trails off, and I know she means Isabella.
Yeah, I'm still obsessed with her. Though, no one knows.
Aside from Angela, it would seem…
"Yes?" I prompt, wishing Emmett would allow me to drink alcohol. Not before a tournament, though.
"What's the deal?" Ange asks. "I know you, funnily enough, and I know you're more into relationships," she adds, looking pointedly at me.
I sigh heavily, realising I'm probably going to end up spilling everything to her.
"It started off as a one-time thing," I admit, thinking back to our first encounter. "But then she was ball girl at another of my matches, and… I asked her out again, but I genuinely wanted to get to know her more. She's just too damn beautiful, and she'd left the next morning before I'd woken up."
Ange doesn't say anything for a while, thinking over my words.
"You want her, don't you?" Ange correctly assumes.
"So badly. But that's irrelevant, since she lives in England and I only know her first name," I tell her, hardly glancing over at my sister.
"There's no way of tracing her?" Ange asks hopefully.
"Believe me, if there was a way I would have done it weeks ago."
Ange looks sorrowfully over at me, leaning over to give me a hug.
"Oh, brother. Of course you'd end up falling for a girl you couldn't contact," Ange sighs. "So, what else do you know about her?" Ange asks, clearly trying to lift my spirits.
"She told me her dream was to open her own publishing office, with her two best friends, here in New York," I smile, recalling her passion when she spoke about it. "Isabella's incredibly clever. She went to Oxford," I add.
Oh, how I miss her.
Ange smiles knowingly over at me, hugging me once more.
*******DEUCE*******
Serving for the match, I look up to the crowds to see Ange and Mum grinning widely, Dad looking confident. I refocus on the match, bouncing the ball twice before throwing it in the air and slamming my racket against it to serve an ace.
The crowd goes in an uproar, everyone screaming and shouting. I smile, pleased with how the match went, and walk over to shake my opponents hand. He smiles back at me, murmuring a quiet congratulations.
After the win, there's a blur of reporters, all asking me about the match, and how I thought it went.
It's crazy, but I love it.
"After your recent Wimbledon win, you must be feeling pretty confident. How confident are you going into the New York open?" One reporter asks; a microphone thrust into my face.
"I do enjoy the New York open, since I have a home crowd and my family are at every match, which is pretty great," I reply.
Once the media frenzy is over, I'm free to head to the changing rooms and have a shower. The warm water provides much needed release for my muscles, though I can't help remembering how my past two competitive matches ended. Namely with me inside Isabella.
"Come on, we're going out to celebrate," Emmett says as soon as I exit the changing room.
"What?" I reply, frowning.
"Your family and I are going out for a meal," he clarifies, ushering me through the crowds and into the car.
I prefer the way I used to celebrate after I won at Wimbledon.
Fuck, I don't need to be thinking of that. Mere thoughts of our times together are enough to make me hard.
Emmett leads us over to a table in the restaurant, my family all beaming at me. Now, I'd be really happy if we could make it through the night without mention of my love life.
*******DEUCE*******
"Edward, I have this friend, whose daughter is single…" Mum trails off.
We lasted a total of 33 minutes without mentioning setting me up.
"Good for her," I mumble back, shovelling food into my face to prevent the conversation from being continued.
"She's very pretty and looking to settle down." Apparently Mum isn't so easily deterred.
"I repeat my previous statement; good for her."
Mum sighs heavily, looking sadly at me.
"Look, I appreciate your efforts in setting me up, but I can find a girlfriend perfectly well on my own. The fact I don't have a girlfriend is completely by choice," I tell her, hoping to get the point across.
"So, Emmett, are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Mum asks, smiling politely. She's always treated Emmett like another son.
"No, not currently, Esme. I'm focussing all my attentions on getting Edward another win," Emmett grins, bumping my shoulder with his.
I roll my eyes but laugh all the same, happy I have such a great relationship with my training. It'll probably turn out that when I retire, so will Emmett, and vice versa.
*******DEUCE*******
Pacing around the small room, I pick up my racket and check the strings once again. Perfect.
As I walk out onto the court, I glance up to the relative's box. I smile and give a little wave to my parents before walking to my seat and placing down my bag. My opponent does the same thing, and for a few moments we unpack our things.
We head over to the court and practise a little, hitting the ball back and forth. I pause while Diego, my opponent, gets another ball, and so I glance over at the crowd.
I look over the people closest, wandering around the court a bit. My steps falter as I catch one face, a face I didn't think I'd ever see again, except in my dreams.
Isabella.
A/N: What do you think Edward's reaction to Bella will be? :D
Review please!