Chapter 132
Chapter 132 TIMOTHY POV
The ice was slick beneath Timothy's skates as he glided across the hockey rink. The sharp blades of his skates cut through the surface, sending sprays of ice crystals. into the air. The arena was alive with the sounds of the game, the thud of sticks against pucks, the clatter of players colliding, and the cheers of the crowd.
But amid the cacophony of the game, there was a deafening silence that echoed in Timothy’s heart. He had cto this match with a sense of resignation, knowing all too well what he would find—or rather, what he wouldn't find.
Evie. Her absence hung like a heavy shadow over the arena, a void that seemed to swallow the very essence of the game. Timothy had known that she wouldn’t be there, but that knowledge didn’t make the emptiness any easier to bear.
As he raced down the rink, the puck gliding smoothly beneath his stick, Timothy couldn’t help but steal glances at the stands. He had hoped against all rationality that she might surprise him, that she might be there in the crowd, cheering him on as she had done in the early days.
The gcontinued with a relentless intensity, the players battling fiercely for control of the puck. Timothy’s mind should have been focused solely on the match, on the strategies and plays, but his thoughts kept drifting. He also had Stella to worry about, and the potential pregnancy.
If the results turned out positive, any sliver of hope that he and Evie had would be torn away.
He missed her laughter, her unwavering support, and the way she had believed in him even when he had doubted himself. She had been his confidante just in those. few months, and now, she was gone.
As halftapproached, Timothy’s frustration grew. The opposing team had the upper hand, and his team was struggling to keep up. He knew that he had to focus, to give his all for the sake of his teammates, but the ache of Evie’s absence was a heavy burden to bear.
When the buzzer sounded off for intermission, Timothy skated off the ice with at heavy heart. He took off his sweat-soaked jersey, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, Timothy noticed a commotion near the
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Chapter 182
locker room entrance.
His heart quickened as he recognized his brother Andy standing there, engaged in conversation with none other than his rival, Alex.
He couldn't fathom why his brother would be talking to Alex, the very player who had been a constant thorn in his side on the ice. Seeing Andy in conversation with Alex sent a ripple of unease through Timothy.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtPushing aside his exhaustion. Timothy hastily threw on his jersey and made his way over to them, his curiosity and concern growing with each step.
“What are you two up to?” he asked as he approached the pair.
Andy turned to face him, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Timmy,” he greeted, his tone casual. “Just conducting a little business here, that’s all.”
Timothy's eyes narrowed as he glanced between his brother and Alex, who appeared to be growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Business?” he echoed, hist tone incredulous. “What kind of business?”
Alex shifted on his feet, clearly eager to escape the situation. “Look, | really should be going,” he stammered, making a hasty exit.
Timothy watched as Alex hurried away, leaving him alone with his brother. “Andy, what’s going on?” he pressed, his frustration mounting. “Why were you talking to Alex of all people?”
Andy chuckled, a smug glint in his eye. “Relax, baby brother,” he replied, his tone. dripping with condescension. “It was just a little deal. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Timothy sighed, his patience wearing thin. “I have every reason to be worried when it involves you,” he shot back.
Andy's grin widened, clearly reveling in Timothy’s frustration. “Let's just say it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he teased, refusing to provide any further details.
Finally at his limit, Timothy took a few steps toward Andy until he was towering over his brother. His height was probably the one thing he had over Andy. “Care to elaborate?”
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Andy's laughter was maddening as he walked past Timothy, brushing shoulders ast he passed. “Fine, fine.” he relented, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Im working on a little sponsorship deal with Alex’s company. That's all.”
The revelation left Timothy dumbfounded. A sponsorship deal? It seemed odd that his brother would be collaborating with his rival, especially when they were competing on the steam. The implications of such an arrangement were baffling.
“Why would you do that?” Timothy demanded. “And why skulk around if you’re so innocent?”
Andy shrugged, his nonchalant attitude infuriating. “I didn’t think it was a big deal,” he replied, his tone dismissive. “Besides, it’s just business.”
But Timothy couldn't simply brush it aside. The thought of his brother and his rival working together, potentially gaining an advantage over him, gnawed at his competitive spirit. It felt like a betrayal, a breach of trust.
“Just business?” Timothy retorted, his anger simmering. “This is my career, Andy. My team.”
Andy's expression hardened, and he took a step closer to his brother, his voice cold and calculating. Timothy, you need to focus on your game,” he advised, “Because it could be your last.”
With that, Andy turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Timothy seething with frustration and resentment. The intermission was drawing to a close, and he knew he had to return to the ice, but the shadow of his brother’s actions loomed
over him.
As he stepped back onto the rink, the cheers of the crowd and the exhilaration of the gfelt hollow. The rivalry with Alex had always been a challenge he relished, but now it was tainted by the knowledge that his own brother was involved in ssort of alliance with his adversary.
He couldn't shake the suspicion that there was more to the situation than met the eye. The way his brother had brushed off their conversation, the secretive dealings with Alex-it all felt strategic. And now, as he skated onto the rink, his attention was drawn to a teammate, one whose actions raised alarm bells in his mind.
It was Mark, a talented defenseman who had always been known for his dedication 3/6
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Chapter 132
to the game. But now, there was something off about his performance. He seemed sluggish, his movements hesitant, and his passes lacked the precision that had
once been his trademark.
Timothy's frustration and suspicion grew with each passing moment. It was as if Mark were purposefully throwing the game, making mistakes that were
uncharacteristic of a player of his caliber. The team was suffering, and Timothy could see the potential victory slipping away. Skating over to Mark, he couldn’t contain his anger any longer. “What the hell are you doing out there, man?” he hissed. Mark glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “What's it to you?” he retorted, his tone defiant.
Timothy squinted. “This is a team, damn it,” he spat. “We're supposed to be working together, but you’re out their fumbling the puck by trying to play it solo.”
The referee blew the whistle, and the other players on the ice turned their attention toward the confrontation.
Mark’s gaze hardened, and he pushed Timothy away, his voice laced with bitterness. “You think you're so perfect, don’t you?” he shot back. “Maybe you should worry about your own problems instead of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The exchange had drawn the attention of the coaching staff, and the head coach, Coach Anderson, skated over, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s going here, fellas?” he demanded, his voice stern. Timothy pointed at Mark. “He’s acting like he doesn’t know how to play,” he blurted out, his voice tense. The meeting between
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmAlex and Andy had only put him. more on edge.
The first time, he’d seen Alex talking to a player, but he’d walked away before Timothy could identify him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the player he’d seen with Alex was the sone standing in front of him.
“If | didn’t know any better,” Timothy started, “I'd say he was doing it on purpose.”
Mark’s face twisted with anger, and he shot Timothy a venomous glare. “You're making baseless accusations,” he retorted. 4/6
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Chapter 132
Coach Anderson eyed both players with a stern expression.
“We all have off days, Timothy, so try not to tear down your own teammate,” he warned. “Mark, | expect better from you. Now, let's focus on the gand leave personal issues off the ice.”
The coach's words were a clear reprimand, and Timothy knew he had pushed the boundaries of acceptable behavior. With a final warning look from Coach Anderson, he reluctantly returned to the bench, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and suspicion.
As he watched the gunfold, his team struggling to recover from their disadvantage, Timothy couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. His emotional state was already in shambles, and now this situation with Mark threatened to further unravel his composure.
The final buzzer sounded, signaling their defeat, and Timothy couldn’t contain his disappointment. He had been right all along— Mark’s actions had cost them the game. The team filed off the rink, their spirits crushed by the loss.
Coach Anderson pulled Timothy aside, his expression grave. “I understand your frustration, Timothy,” he began, his tone measured. “But we can’t let personal conflicts affect the team’s performance. I’m might have to sit you out for the next gif you keep this up.”
Timothy's anger flared once more, but he knew that Coach Anderson's decision. was justified. He had allowed his emotions to get the better of him. With a reluctant nod, he retreated to the locker room.
As he sat alone in the quiet of the locker room, the sounds of his teammates celebrating and commiserating outside, Timothy buried his face in his hands and shook his head rapidly.
Everything was crumbling around him. Evie was quickly drifting away from him, and he loathed not being able to see her every morning. If Stella turned out to be pregnant, he might never see Evie again, or be able to face her without the guilt eating away at him.
He could only hope for one thing to turn out in his favor now.
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