Fate Knows How to Play ✔️ || 1 || Off the Ice Series

27 | The Reporters

The game unfolded with intensity and ferocity. Bodies collided, tempers flared, and the score remained tight. But we never wavered. The memory of our previous losses fueled our determination, propelling us forward.

As the final seconds ticked away, the score was tied. We had fought tooth and nail, leaving everything on the ice. Fatigue washed over us, but we refused to succumb. Overtime loomed before us, a test of endurance and willpower.

With a surge of adrenaline, my eyes lock on the goal, determination coming back with a vengeance. The team played by my side with a synchronicity born from countless hours of practice, our movements fluid and coordinated.

And then it happened—a perfectly executed play. I received the pass, deftly maneuvering through the opposing defense. With a swift flick of my wrist, the puck sailed into the net. The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, the collective victory cry reverberating through the arena.

In that moment, as the team celebrated our hard-earned triumph, I looked around, the teams faces a mask of sheer elation, eyes shining with a mix of pride and relief. We had overcome our previous setback, proving our resilience and unity as a team.

The coach approached us, a rare smile playing on his lips.

"Get your asses ready, tonight we celebrate!"

• • •

The arena door slams shut behind me and I lift my hand to my eyes, blocking the steady stream of flashing lights, my ears ringing with the questions and accusations yelled.

"Chadwick!* A voice yells above the rest, a microphone shoved into my face. "What do you think about the current rumours regarding your romantic life, is there any truth to them?"

I push past a small huddle of reporters, trying to get to the waiting bus but with every evading manoeuvre another camera pops up in my way, another question shouted out.

1 grind my teeth, feeling some of my teammates at my back, all of us just wanting to get to the bus and out of here, some even shoving the cameras away.

"Tobias!" One voice yells above the rest, wanting to be heard. "Who is the woman? Have you been baby trapped?"

I push past another few reporters, trying to ignore the questions even as they're all I hear.

I'm almost to the car when another question is shouted! "How many more men has she trapped?"

The anger takes over me instantly, white hot rage sinking into my bones as I turn to the reporter.
"What did you just say?" I hiss through clenched teeth, stepping forward in defence.

The reporter moves, shoving their camera in my face, their beady eyes seen over the lens, greedy and sharp.

"Tobias." Jason hisses, moving to stand in front of me, "Walk it off."

"No, I want to hear him say it." I move forward again, looking down at the man who takes a quick step back.

"Chadwick!" Coach's voice echoes over the noise and chaos, and my head snaps to him. "Come have a chat.

I shove past the reporter, my steps eating up the distance towards Coach.

He walks me further away from the reporters, pushing back through the door towards the locker room, shoving the door open.

"What's happening Tobias?" He says lowly, turning to face me once the door shuts behind us.
"You've not been yourself the last few months."

I look towards the ground. "I've had a lot on my mind." Is all I say.

"About this woman?"

My head whips up and Coach rolls his eyes at the look on my face, "It's obvious, Tobias." He shakes his head, sitting down on the bench while I remain standing. *What is happening with her?"

"I-*I pause, sighing, "Nothing, not anymore."

I can feel his eyes on me, searching. "These articles, is there any truth to them?"

"Truth?" I repeat, stupidly.

Coach narrows his eyes, "About the pregnancy?"

I close my eyes, shaking my head. "Not anymore."

He tilts his head and I open my mouth, "She had a miscarriage."

"Oh. Tobias I'm sorry." He closes his eyes on a sigh, "Is that why you've been distracted?"

"Yeah, it happened a few days before the season started."

"How is she doing?" He asks the question I dread.

*I don't know, after it happened she told me to leave her alone and she left."

"You haven't tried contacting her?"

"T have no way of contacting her." I say sheepishly, "I hardly know anything about her."

"How did you meet her?" he asks suspiciously.

"I met her a few months ago."

"I didn't ask when, I asked how?"

"At a bar, I took her home."

"Tobias!" He hisses, "You know you have to be more careful in your line of work."

"I know, but this was different." I quickly add, " I saw her again at my cousins wedding, she was the Maid of Honour, and pregnant."

"I hate to ask this, especially given the circumstances, but you're sure the baby was yours?"

I nod my head without hesitation, "I believed her."

Coach nods, "And she hasn't contacted you?" I shake my head.

He nods again, "Give her time."

"But how much time?"

He thinks for a moment, "Give her the season."
He looks to me earnestly, "Give yourself the season, and then when it's done, go find her. Talk to her."

"The season doesn't end for months." I mutter, dejected. "What if the reporters find her before I can talk to her, they'll ruin any chance I have."

I see the look on Coach's face, recognising the ruthless man he is, the planner.

"Then you know what you have to do." He says, "Distract them with other news."

"Like what?" My heads falls back, eyes closing with defeat.

"Be seen with other women, the vultures will narrow in on them and forget entirely about your woman."

My woman? I liked the sound of that, I just hoped she did too.

*Who would willingly put themselves in that position?"

Coach laughs, "You'd be surprised." He stands up, clapping my on the shoulder, "Let me make some calls, I'll sort it out."