My Hockey Alpha novel Chapter 352

Nina

I woke up to the sharp pang of nausea hitting me like a freight train. My stomach was a swirl of discomfort, making the mere thought of breakfast unbearable. Enzo, lying beside me, seemed to sense my discomfort before I even articulated it, his eyes clouded with residual tension from our argument last night.

“Morning,” he said, his voice cautious. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” I admitted, clutching my belly. ”

Morning sickness is a nightmare.”

He looked concerned, sitting up. “Let’s get you something to eat, then. Something to settle your stomach.”

“I guess,” I muttered, my heart sinking at the thought. I could almost smell the hotel breakfast from here-syrupy French toast, eggs, bacon-all of which made my stomach churn.

He noticed my hesitation and furrowed his brow. ”

What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” I began, nearly choking on the words, ” the smell alone will make me sick, I’m afraid.” Enzo sighed, getting out of bed and beginning to dig through his bag for some clothes. Some paragraphs are incomplete if you are not reading this novel on Jobnib.com. Visit Jobnib.com to read the complete chapters for free.”Alright, how about this? We’ll ditch the hotel breakfast and get you something you could actually stomach.. I think there’s a cafe down the street; maybe they will have something that won’t make you queasy.”

“No, don’t worry about me. I can just make some dry toast here,” I offered, not wanting to trouble him, especially after our argument last night.

Enzo looked at me like I had grown two heads. ”

I’m not just going to let my pregnant wife lay alone in a hotel room eating dry toast. No way.”

Before I could argue, he was slipping his hoodie over his head, brushing his teeth, and holding out his hand for me to take it. “Come on, let’s go.”

As we walked hand-in-hand down the street, I felt my morning fog lifting, replaced by a newfound appetite triggered by the inviting aroma emanating from the cafe. The scent of herbal tea and freshly baked bread filled the air, instantly comforting my roiling stomach and the clenching sensation in my throat.

“Here.” Enzo guided me to a seat by the window, offering a warm smile that was just as much of a comfort as the scent of chocolate croissants in the air. “Why don’t you sit down and relax? I’ll get us something to eat.”

As I settled in, watching him approach the counter, I was hit with a wave of guilt. Despite our argument last night, here he was, doing everything he could to make me comfortable. He was a good man, a wonderful husband, and it pained me to think of how unfair I had been to him.

He returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray laden with food: herbal tea, fresh fruit, cream cheese bagels, and, to my absolute delight, chocolate croissants —my favorite.

“Wow, Enzo, this looks amazing,” I said, taking it all in.

He chuckled, setting the tray down. “I figured you’d like the croissants. They’re your favorite, after all.”

I picked one up, taking a bite and relishing the velvety chocolate and flaky pastry. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I said, my eyes misty with gratitude.

“You existed,” he replied, softly. “That’s all it took.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You’re the best.”

He smiled, his eyes meeting mine in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. “It’s nothing, Nina.

Absolutely nothing to do something like this for the woman I love.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, both of us still waking up. But as I savored the last bite of my chocolate croissant, I could feel Enzo’s gaze fixed on me. I looked up, meeting his eyes, and there it was — the unspoken tension from last night, still lingering between us.

“Listen, um… Can we talk?” Enzo finally broke the silence.

“About?” I asked, although I already knew what he meant.

“Last night. Nina, it still bothers me that you felt embarrassed to share our story.”

I sighed, placing my cup of tea on the table. “Look, Enzo, I’m not embarrassed by you. It’s just complicated, okay? I was a virgin when we met, and my ex-boyfriend had just cheated on me that very night. Our story can look messy to people who don’t know us. Hell, it is messy no matter how you look at it.”

He shrugged. “So what? Every love story is messy in its own way. Ours is no different. And besides, it’s not like you’d need to share every detail.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like the way that Mila was probing. Something tells me that she would have gotten it out of me sooner or later and she would have made it even worse.”

Enzo paused, taking in my words. “Nina, I already told you that you don’t need to worry about Mila.

And besides, if you’re so concerned about how it sounds, why not just make up a fake story?” My eyes widened at his suggestion. “Make up a fake story? Is that what you really want me to do?”

He sighed, looking genuinely frustrated. “No, of course it’s not. But it seems like that’s what you would prefer; a more Disney-worthy love story. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything, Nina. We should be proud of our story, regardless of how it started. All that matters is where we are now.”

“I know, and I am proud. I’m incredibly proud to be your wife, to be carrying our child,” I said, my hand instinctively moving to my belly. “I just don’t want to be judged, especially not by people like Mila.”

“Oh my god,” he muttered, shaking head. “Nina, how many times do I have to tell you -”

“I know, I know,” I interrupted, gripping the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turned white. “But Enzo, I know how I saw it. And she was probing.

She’s interested in you; I’m a woman, I can tell.”

“Fine,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. ” But it shouldn’t matter, Nina. I’d never be interested in her. Period. You have nothing to worry about.”

I skated over to the two instigators, feeling the ice crunch beneath my skates. Gripping their jerseys, I pulled them apart with barely any effort. “Benches.

Now. Both of you.”

They skated off, heads hung low, and I turned to address the rest of the team, who stared back at me with varying levels of guilt and apprehension.

“Listen up,” I began, circling on my skates to command their full attention. “I get that emotions run high, especially in a game as intense as hockey.

But what just happened here? This isn’t a brawl; it’s a sport. A team sport. And if you can’t act like a team, then what’s the point?”

My eyes scanned over their faces, each one nodding in silent agreement. “You’re here to support each other, to lift each other up. Not tear each other down. I’ve seen teams disintegrate from within because they lost sight of that, and let me tell you, it’s not pretty. Infighting, resentment—”

My gaze briefly, involuntarily, darted towards the exit, where the life beyond this rink waited for me— Nina, our unborn child, our life together —and how a simple argument could shake even the strongest of foundations. I swallowed hard, forcing my focus back on the young athletes in front of me.

“Look, if you guys have grievances, there’s a time and place for that. It’s called communication, not fistfights on the ice. If you can’t settle your differences off the rink, what makes you think throwing a few punches will solve anything?” – They all looked sheepishly at one another, and I could see the realization setting in.

“Understand this,” I continued, my tone taking on a more somber note. “From now on, if I see any of you fighting — all of you will be punished.

Understood?”

“Yes, Coach!” the team echoed back in unison.

As I Skated back to my position, I caught sight of Tim standing by the glass. He gave me a thumbs-up, clearly approving of how I had handled the situation.

But even as I acknowledged him with a subtle nod, my mind went back to the argument with Nina.

Maybe I was a good coach, maybe I could inspire a team, but what about my most important team — my family?

“Let’s take fifteen,” I said, glancing at the time to see that it had been two hours of intense training already. “Get some water, some protein, and you two—” I pointed at the two on the bench, “—work it out. Now. I want you back on the ice with everyone else.”

As the team skated off the ice, I followed suit, but headed in the opposite direction toward the bleachers to take a breather. I sank down onto one of the benches and loosened my skates, checking my phone. A slight smile came across my face as a picture from Nina popped up in our texts, a selfie of her standing in front of a Van Gogh painting.

Just then, Mila’s voice broke through my reverie. ”

Mind if I join you?”

I glanced up to see her standing there, a smile on her face. After last night, I almost considered turning her down; but I had to be professional. I was at work, not in high school anymore.