My Hockey Alpha



As I waited my turn, I couldn't help but notice the other travelers around me. Families saying goodbye, friends sharing one last laugh, lovers holding onto each other before the inevitable separation.

It was a reminder that, even though I often felt worlds apart from the rest of humanity, we were the same; despite what existed in my blood, I was still human to my core.

When it was finally my turn to pass through security, I turned to steal one last glimpse at Enzo. He was still standing by the entrance, watching me with a mix of worry and something else I couldn't quite read. Our eyes met, and I offered him another tiny wave.

"I love you," I mouthed, blowing him a kiss. He smirked, lifting his hand to catch the kiss. I couldn't help but giggle a bit as he pretended to put it in his pocket.

And then, just like that, he was gone. I watched his form fade through the double doors, and then he was out of sight.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

As I boarded the plane later, I couldn't help but feel a sickening sense of trepidation. I was only going home, but it felt different. I wasn't just heading home after a vacation; I was rushing home in the wake of something terrifying. A flight attendant offered me a warm smile as she passed by, but I could only manage a feeble response. My hand instinctively moved to my belly, the constant touch a source of reassurance and comfort.

As the plane taxied down the runway and lifted off into the morning sky, I felt my anxieties rise along with the giant metal bird. The city below eventually faded into the distance, and ahead of us was nothing but pinkish blue sky as the sun began to warm the earth.

I turned my gaze to the window, my reflection staring back at me. My hand was still over my belly. I pressed it down a little more firmly as though that could somehow protect the little life inside of me, the little life that seemed as though it had been constantly hanging in the balance since I discovered it.

And for just a moment, I allowed myself to consider the possibilities: the joyful meeting with my first born child, or perhaps something far worse. Maybe that possibility was something that I would have to come to terms with. "Excuse me," a voice said from beside me, breaking me out of my deep train of thought.

I looked away to see an elderly woman sitting beside me, her brown eyes shining from behind her wrinkled skin. "Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She smiled, pausing for a moment as though choosing her words carefully, before she pointed at my belly. "Are you pregnant?"

Now, I was the one who hesitated for a moment, swallowing, before I finally nodded. "I am."

The old woman's eyes lit up. "Oh, how wonderful," she cooed, clasping her hands together. "I could sense it on you. You're positively glowing."

I quirked an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was a midwife for decades, and let me just say... you seem like you've got a wonderful, healthy pregnancy in front of you. Really, I wish you all the best."

I didn't know what to say. The old woman's words seemed so profound and out of the ordinary, that it almost felt like a sign, or as if she had read my mind. All I could manage was a simple "T-Thank you," before I returned my attention to the window.

I couldn't help but smile as I looked out at the window, and think that maybe that was the reminder that I needed: that despite all of the darkness, there was still light in the world. There was still the pinkish hue of the rising sun, the white tufts of clouds in the sky, and an old woman's vibrant eyes.

And that, I decided, would be the thing that kept me going. I was sure of it.