My Hockey Alpha



Nina

The chilly morning wound up turning into a warm and sunny afternoon, and Enzo and I were tired of being all alone in our big house on the cliff.

In a last ditch effort to inject some normalcy in our lives, Enzo and I had decided to drive into town to check out the shops, get some fresh air, and have some coffee.

The drive was almost therapeutic-the sound of the tires on the road, the hum of the truck's engine, and Enzo's casual drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel all seemed to ground me in an odd way, reminding me that the world still existed outside my little bubble of melancholy.

We parked along the side of the road on the main street, where all of the shops lay. The atmosphere was filled with the sweet notes of an early summer afternoon: children laughing, dogs barking, and the distant melody of a street musician strumming his guitar.

As we strolled hand in hand, I looked at the small businesses lining the square. There was Mrs. Thompson's flower shop, bursting with bouquets of every conceivable color; the bakery with its freshly baked bread aroma wafting through the air; and the charming little bookstore that always promised a good find.

But most of all, my eyes were drawn to a young mother seated at the edge of a stone fountain in the center of the park. She was playing peek-a-boo with her toddler, who giggled with uninhibited joy. A bubble of warmth expanded in my chest at the sight, and before I knew it, I was moving toward them.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

"Hi," I greeted the mother with a smile as I approached. "Your little one is adorable."

"Thank you," she replied, her eyes lighting up. "Say hello, Max."

The toddler looked at me with a curious grin and waved a tiny hand. My heart melted. I couldn't resist; I waved back exaggeratedly, playing into his little world of innocence and wonder.

"He's just learning how to wave," the mother explained.

"That's wonderful. Such a significant milestone," I responded, my voice filled with genuine excitement.

We exchanged a few more pleasantries before Enzo and I said our goodbyes, my heart a little lighter than before. As we walked away, I felt Enzo's eyes on me. When I looked up, there was a hint of humor in his gaze. "What?" I asked, feeling my face flush slightly red as I already knew the answer.

Enzo shrugged, but that signature smirk of his remained. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just you and a little toddler... You practically beelined over to him."

At his words, my face flushed an even deeper shade of red. "So what? He was cute."

"It's nothing," he said gently, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "It's just... I mean, don't tell me you don't want to have a little one like that."

For a moment, I felt my eyes mist over. I glanced back at the fountain where the young mother sat, her joy evident on her face, and the toddler, so eager to explore the world. I wanted that I wanted it more than I could express.

But right now, I didn't know if it was the best thing. But if not now, then when?

Later that night, I found myself home alone. Enzo had decided to go on a motorcycle ride and visit some friends, seeing as how it was a warm night. With my current... condition, I didn't know if it was the best idea for me to be getting on a motorcycle.

With a cup of warm chamomile tea cupped in my hands, I dialed my mom's number. She had been living in the werewolf realm still, having made a home for herself in my father's mansion. I was glad that she was there with

him; he wasn't alone, and Tyler had access to the right medicine for his condition.

"Hey, Nina," my mom's voice rang through the line, a soothing sound to my frayed nerves. "Is everything alright?" The question was simple, almost mundane, but the weight behind it made me pause. Was everything alright? How could it be when my future, our future, hung by such a fragile thread?

"I... need to talk, Mom," I finally replied, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to control it.

"Of course, sweetheart. I'm here for you."

With a shaky breath, I launched into the story, telling her all about the conflicting emotions, fears, and hopes that had been crowding my mind for days. Every word seemed to lift a fraction of the heaviness that had been suffocating me, as if saying them aloud made them more manageable.

As I recounted my fears about medical school and how a baby could derail everything for both Enzo and me, there was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Nina, life is never going to be perfect," she finally said. "There's always going to be something-some reason to be hesitant, to be scared. But what's important is that you don't let fear dictate your choices."

"But mom," I interjected, "medical school is going to be demanding. Enzo's job is going to be demanding. How can we possibly think about bringing a child into the mix?"

There was another pause. I could practically see my mom on the other end, sitting in her favorite armchair by the fireplace, her eyes filled with that combination of concern and love that had become a sort of sanctuary for me over the past year, especially after decades of strife between us.

"You know," she began, "when I had your brother, I was still in the early years of my career. It was a challenge balancing it all, but I made it work. And you can, too."

"But you were always so much more mature than me," I said. "What if I can't handle it?"

"Nina," my mom said gently, "you've been through so much. If you really think you can't handle it, then don't do it. It is your decision at the end of the day. But if you want this, even if just a little part of you wants it, then don't make any rash decisions that will take it from you."

As my mom spoke, realization came over me. Maybe there was a part of me-one bigger than I previously thought -that did want this. The toddler that I saw in the park earlier was a perfect testament to that. The fact that I was so disappointed when I thought that I wasn't pregnant was a testament to it, too.

Did I really want to terminate this pregnancy for the sake of our careers? Or was it possible that maybe, just maybe, some part of me was... excited? Excited for this new step in our lives, for the chaos of it all.

And maybe another part of me was excited to bring a new life into the world, as if that would somehow reconcile my own trauma. To get the chance to raise a little one in a home filled with love, no pain, no fear. To give them something that I didn't get to have for a very, very long time.

"Thank you, Mom. Your words mean the world to me," I said, finally breaking the contemplative silence.

"You don't have to make this decision tonight, Nina. Take your time, talk it over with Enzo. And remember, you're never alone in this."

"I love you, mom," I said, tears forming at the comers of my eyes.

"I love you too, honey. Always."