Games We Play

The glass-walled padel court hummed with the echo of rubber against acrylic. Elena lunged for the ball, her racket connecting with a satisfying thwack that sent it spiraling past Sarah's defense.

"Still playing like you have something to prove," Sarah said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She looked older than Elena remembered—their five years apart etched in the fine lines around her eyes.

"And you're still letting everything come to you." Elena bent to retrieve the ball, her breath steady despite the heat. "Passive. Just like always."

Sarah laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Some of us learned that fighting every point isn't the same as winning the match."

They'd met weekly at this court, back when they worked together at the firm. Friend. That's what they'd called each other, though the word had always felt inadequate, slippery. They'd sharedcubicles, then secrets, then a bed, then nothing at all.

"Are you going to tell me why you really asked me here?" Sarah asked, her racket dangling at her side. "Or should we keep pretending this is just about exercise?"

Elena straightened, her heart pounding now for reasons beyond the game. "Mark offered me the partnership."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

"Congratulations," Sarah said finally. "Is that what you needed to hear?"

"He only offered it because you turned it down."

Sarah's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind her eyes—something like exhaustion, or maybe it was relief. "You've been bearing that grudge for five years, Elena. You think I stepped aside so you could have my sloppy seconds?"

"I think you're a coward. I think you ran away because you were scared to fail out loud."

"I left because I was dying," Sarah said softly. "Not metaphorically. The stress, the expectations—they were literally killing me. My doctor said I was weeks away from a heart attack." She gestured at herself, at her visible health, her calm. "This isn't cowardice. It's survival."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have tried to fix it." Sarah picked up a ball from the ground. "You would have made it about you, about us, about fixing something that wasn't broken to begin with." She tossed the ball into the air and caught it. "Some things aren't games, Elena. Sometimes you have to stop playing and just... live."

Elena felt the weight of all her assumptions, all her resentment, suddenly unbearable. "I missed you," she said. "Even when I hated you for leaving, I missed you."

Sarah's smile was genuine this time. "I know. Me too."

"Same time next week?" Elena asked, raising her racket.

"Absolutely," Sarah said. "But I'm not going easy on you anymore."

"I wouldn't want you to."