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He should have expected it, yet it didn't mean it hurt half as much. The betrayal sank in deep, a confirmation of all his fears, of the fact his love would never be enough. He really should have listened when Tashi had asked if he though love was what she was after. Anger came afterwards, at himself, at her, at Patrick.
Anger was what made him continue, a desire to show them both he was just as capable. A cry for them to finally see him as a fucking peer and not that desperate boy they were happy to leave on the sidelines.
He would play, and banish Tashi from his mind (if that was possible at all). It was just him, Patrick and the ball, nothing outside of them mattered, nothing outside of them existed. Just them and tennis, like it should have been from the beginning.
“What do you want, Art?” She had asked.
“What do you want?” She had kept pushing.
He had stayed silent, his head and his heart so conflicted and so afraid.
But now the path forward was clear. He thinks he could answer if she were to ask now.
“What do you want?” She'd say with those eyes full of pity, most likely already tasting the disappointment (and how afraid he had always been to disappoint).
“I want to drive Lily to school in the mornings, I want to teach her how to ride a bicycle, take her to McDonald's to have lunch without feeling guilty, I want to see her grow up without being forced to move from hotel room to hotel room, to never miss a school play. I want to live my life outside of tennis. And maybe get a dog on the way.” He would say, and he would mean it. He had always been happy to do as he was told, play and sweat and hurt as long as that made Tashi happy. But they all knew how that had turned out, with him a shell of himself where there was simply no more to give, and Tashi so utterly disappointed in his lack of fire (as if she had forgotten he had never been fire part of the duo in the first place), because she knew, she just knew she could have pushed herself further, done better, been better.
A part of him had always known he didn't have what it took to be enough for someone like her, and he had been ultimately right. But an equally stubborn part of himself had thought he could fight to become so, fight for her love. That was another blunder on his part, because he should have known Tashi could never love him more than she loved tennis (maybe she couldn't love him at all). It was a moot point regardless, because she wasn't the girl he was playing for anymore.
So he won, hurt and anger mixing with an ugly longing he had buried deep inside a decade ago. Patrick’s arms around him equally comforting and daming. Tashi had told him she would leave if he didn't win, but he would not force her to choose this time. He'd cut her free himself, he would not drag her down with the sinking ship that would be his career. It was only fair.
That's what they said anyway, right? That if you love something you have let it go and if it comes back it means you were loved back. Art didn't think she would come back to him, he truly doubted they would see each other outside of custody exchanges and Lily’s events.
He had done his duties with the press, the three local journalists that actually deigned themselves to come, that is, and went straight to the hotel. His chest still swelled with pride at the way Tashi preened and gushed about finally seeing some good fucking tennis. It was sad how he still worshiped the ground she walked on, how he still hung on her every word. Art guessed putting her on a pedestal, thinking her infallible, surely way above his league had been his first mistake.
He could almost forgive Patrick, he already had forgiven Atlanta. They weren't friends any more, and he could not allude to any current loyalty between them. He might not have crossed that boundary but that doesn't mean he wouldn't have tried to destroy their marriage if their position were reversed (an unhelpful thought told him that he already had, once).
He could not forgive Tashi, at least not this once, not now. He had dealt with Atlanta, stored the hurt and made himself believe it was a one off. They had a fight, they were just recently engaged, it meant nothing, just a last taste of freedom. It had almost worked. But they were married now, she had looked him in the eyes and promised to be true to him, she had promised, and for what? How could he trust her after making a fool out of him again?
The worst part was that he would have said yes. If she had just asked for that kind of change in the nature of their relationship, he would have said yes. He would have accepted her fucking Patrick and however else if she had just been upfront about it.
She had not.
Art thought he could be content to have her care and loyalty even if he couldn't have her love. But with what did it leave him with now?
Art went straight to the shower once back in the hotel, his shoulder ached more than anything else and he could feel Patrick's hands like burning embers on the small of his back. It was easy to get through the motions, shower, put something comfortable, wolf down whatever snack Tashi put in front of him and hum in agreement to whatever she was saying. He could spy a bit of worry in her dark eyes that tasted like satisfaction once he got up and walked to Lily's room, curling beside her and joining her for a nap. Tashi would not bother him here. And as pathetic it was to hide in your five year old’s room there was no other place he would rather be.
He didn't tell her right away, he just contacted a trusted lawyer and started the process on his end. Blindside her just as she had blindsided him. Art wondered if she also had a little folder with a neat stack of paper dividing the life they had built together in two, proposing a calendar with exchanges and time with Lily and giving their relationship a formal ending. She probably did (he didn't blame himself this time for thinking the worst of her).
He had taken their girl to the park afterwards.
“I need to clear my head a bit and seeing Lily have fun always cheers me up.” He had said and although Tashi’s brow had twitched with annoyance she had not protested.
It was not a lie. It was also nice to be out of the permanent scrutiny that followed him even in his own home. Calls were made, to lawyers to hash things out and a hotel to stay in for the night. He could think about getting a new trainer for the US Open another time and probably a new team.
He had talked to Lily too, explained how he would be gone for a little while, that her mom and him would not be together anymore but that they both loved her so so much, that nothing was her fault. She had taken it better than he had expected.
“Mom and dad just don't love each other anymore.” He had told her.
“Is that why she never says it back?” Lily had asked, big caramel eyes that were all Tashi.
“Yeah I guess so.” And it had broken his heart anew the fact she had even noticed.
His mother in law greeted them at the door and Lily hugged her with excitement and begged for a trip to Burger King. Art thought about moving to California so Lily could be near her maternal family once all was finalized, he could work on the Foundation stuff over there or just buy a house near the beach and pass his days quietly.
To his surprise Tashi waited him by the table on the main living space, some fancy take out gracefully spread over it and fucking Patrick. He had the gall to look sheepish, as if he was fourteen again and had turned their uniform shirts pink, as if the mistake was forgetting to take his red pants from the load and not fucking his wife. He could feel his teeth grit against one another at the sight. Looking at Patricks hopeful smile made him want to smash it purple or kiss it away, he didn't know which one and he certainly wasn't about to stop and find out.
Tashi was direct as always, voice laced with a tinge of someone that had come to a breakthrough.
“I think we need to talk about something.” She said getting up from her seat.
“Yes.”
“Well would you like to go first or should I start?”
“I want a divorce.” He said it calmly and without emotion yet time seemed to stop anyway.
Tashi gaped, trying to make sense of it, as if his words did not compute with her calculated plan ahead. Patrick on his end looked at her and then at him and at her again, like he was a spectator of a silent tennis match.
“I've already talked to Lily, made sure she knows we love her very much and this isn't her fault. I'm going to grab some things and will send you my lawyer's contact information as soon as I can.” He elaborated, hoping to break the oppressing silence, quickly turning and leaving for their room. The king size bed haunted his periphery while he filled one of the carry-ons with his stuff.
Art didn't allow himself to break down, reminding himself he had hammered the last nail in his marriage.
Tashi waited by the room door, lips pursed and eyes apprehensive.
“Art, can we talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about?” He answered, monotone. He had made the mistake of bearing his heart to her one too many times not to have not learned from it.
“What do you mean?” She asked, more choked up than he had ever seen her.
“Did you even use protection?” It was not accusatory, but he hoped it bit as much as it had him when Patrick gave him the signal.
Her eyes certainly widened in panic and Patrick's inhale from behind was clear to hear.
He took that moment to open the door, knowing all too well he needed to use the time it took for Tashi to regain her bearings to leave.
“Take care, and give me a call if Lilly needs anything.” He said as farewell, closing the door gently and awaiting the lift anxiously.
It was done, his marriage was over and he didn't feel any better for it.