Addington Awakening

Marcus's golf was a disaster—his business depended on client games he kept losing. The Addington course was prestigious, and Adaeze was its secret weapon.

She was Nigerian-British, thick curves in polo and slacks that somehow looked elegant, with a swing that belonged in a textbook.

"Your problem isn't technique," she said after watching him hack through a round. "It's tension. You're so worried about the result, you can't enjoy the process."

"The result is all that matters."

"That's why you're losing. Come back tomorrow. Sunset. We'll work on your mindset."

The course at sunset was empty and golden. Adaeze took him to a secluded green.

"Forget the ball. Forget the club. Feel your body. Feel the air. Be here."

"This is golf advice?"

"This is life advice." She moved behind him, her thick body against his back. "Now swing. Without thinking."

His best shot ever.

"See? Let go of outcome. Focus on moment." She turned him around. "Want to apply that to something else?"

Her kiss was unexpected and perfect—like a shot he hadn't thought about, just felt.

"This isn't in the lesson plan."

"The lesson plan is whatever helps you play better. This helps." She pulled him toward the trees. "Trust me."

They made love in a copse beside the green—her thick body pressed against ancient oaks, his strokes finally unhurried.

"Yes... focus on the present... right there..."

She came with a cry that scattered birds, and he followed, finally understanding what she'd been teaching.

"Tomorrow," she said, fixing her clothes, "your game will be different. Because you are different."

"How different?"

"Present. Relaxed. Playing for the joy of it." She kissed him softly. "That's what wins. In golf and everything else."

"More lessons?"

"As many as you need." Her smile was a perfect round. "I have so much more to teach you."

His Addington awakening had fixed more than his handicap. And Marcus had found a game worth playing for life.