Chapter 95: I chose my wife.
Chapter 14 - I chose my wife.
Rosie’s POV
I wrapped up my lesson with Elena for the day, feeling a strange mix of mental exhaustion and accomplishment. A personal driver has been assigned to me now, picking me up from the penthouse every morning and dropping me off at the Winter estate. If you had told me a month ago that I’d actually find learning fun again, I would have laughed in your face. But Elena was incredibly patient. She never got frustrated when I stumbled, explaining difficult concepts with a warm gentleness. Whenever I did well, she’d literally give me a gold star sticker on my worksheet and pack a bag of snacks for me to take home to Mia. She even admitted, with a nostalgic smile, how much she had missed teaching.
But just because she was kind didn’t mean she was a pushover. Don’t let the look deceive you; two days ago, I made a careless mistake on a grammar equation, and she calmly made me copy the correct sentence fifty times. By the end of it, my wrist was throbbing, and she gave me an ointment with a smile.
When the driver dropped me back off at the penthouse, Mia was already home from her new school, unbuttoning her uniform jacket. I dropped my sling bag onto the couch and walked over to her, picking up her scattered shoes and placing them neatly in the hallway closet.
“How was school, sweetie?” I asked softly, gently ruffling her hair.
“Good!” she grinned, zipping open her backpack to pull out a stack of colorful drawing books.
I knelt down in front of her, the familiar anxiety tightening in my chest. “Are you really enjoying it? Are the other pupils being nice to you? What about the teachers? Are they treating you well?”
Mia smiled, completely unfazed by my hovering. “They’re all really welcoming, Rosie. I love it there.” She leaned in, wrapping her small arms around my waist in a tight hug.
I let out a sigh of relief, melting into her hug. I knew how school kids could be, and in elite academies like hers, teachers often looked the other way because they didn’t want to offend wealthy parents. Knowing she was safe and happy felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.
Suddenly, my phone dinged in my pocket. I furrowed my brow and pulled it out to see a text from Jude. Attached was a photo of him sitting in a locker room, surrounded by his teammates, getting ready with his jersey on.
"I hope you won’t forget to watch your husband in action tonight," the message read.
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile betrayed me. I scrolled up through our chat, realizing he had been spamming my phone all day. There were pictures of what he ate for breakfast, photos of his teammates arguing, and snapshots from his morning training session.
To be honest, I knew nothing about hockey or sports in general—even video games were definitely not my cup of tea: I didn’t even have the time to enjoy the luxury before. But seeing the excitement and dedication in his messages, I found myself picking up the television remote, flipping through the channels until the screen landed on the live sports broadcast.
I anxiously bit the corner of my thumb as the announcer’s booming voice filled the living room, talking about the Blackburn team’s season opener. The camera began zooming in on each member of the team as they skated onto the ice.
When the lens finally locked onto Jude, my breath caught tightly in my throat. His gaze was different from the playful, soft, teasing smirk he always gave me at home, and in its place was a cold, dangerous intensity. His amber eyes looked darker, fixed on the ice with a focus.
"That’s Uncle Jude!” Mia cheered happily, pointing at the screen while I nodded, gulping.
Seeing him in action for the first time made me realize something clearly: this wasn’t just the man who flirted and teased me. This was a professional athlete who was trained and knew what he was doing.
The game started, and the black ball (puck) flew across the ice. It was incredibly violent as my anxiety spiked, and I kept biting my nails every single time the opposing team swarmed the Blackburn zone, trying to force a shot.
But Jude just waited patiently at the net, returning the puck and defending the goal post. He is good at what he does.
When the buzzer finally echoed through the arena, signaling a win for Blackburn. “Yes!” I screamed out loud, jumping off the couch before instantly freezing in embarrassment, quickly sitting back down. I couldn’t believe a hockey game could actually hold my attention like that, but the adrenaline, the pushing, and the locking had been exhilarating.
A wide smile spread across my face as the Blackburn players rushed the ice, hugging and slamming into each other in celebration. The camera panned over the chaos, briefly catching a stunning Black woman using a towel to gently wipe the sweat from the face of Raphael—the team captain, according to the announcer.
My eyes trailed back to Jude as he pulled off his goalie helmet, and my breathing stuttered. His dark hair was dripping with sweat, clinging to his forehead. His lips were slightly parted as his chest rose and fell heavily, desperate for air. I swallowed hard, my fingers tightly gripping the fabric of my sweatpants. Was a post-game goalie allowed to look that fiercely sensual? It felt illegal.
A crowd of reporters immediately swarmed the Blackburn before one stopped at Jude’s front, who was raking his finger through his hair. The reporter shoved the microphones into his face and shouted rapid-fire questions that I was barely paying attention to until one specific question cut through the noise.
“...your sudden wedding? Fans are dying to know—”
I didn’t catch the full sentence, but I think the reporter was asking about the bride scandal. I bit my lower lip, then looked at the TV to see Jude’s eyes instantly lock onto the camera; it felt like he was seeing me as my heart thudded continuously.
“My personal life is private,” Jude said, having a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His brown eyes tended to soften when he smiled, but they looked blank and dull here. “What happens in my marriage or on my wedding day has nothing to do with the rink. I assumed you were here to interview me about the game, not my wife.”
“I’m sorry, Winter, we just—” the reporter stumbled.
“But since you asked,” Jude interrupted smoothly, dropping his gaze directly into the camera as if he knew I was watching on the other side of the screen. I quickly scanned the living room. Can he see me?. “What can I say? I chose my wife. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to my life.”
Without waiting for a response after he dropped the bomb, he turned on his heel and walked away from the rink, leaving the reporters—and me—staring after him in shock.
The best thing that has ever happened to his life?
How could he just casually say something so private on live television casually? A burning blush exploded across my face, heat radiating all the way to the tips of my ears before I could even process the reason my heart was skipping a beat; my phone in my hand vibrated. I looked at the screen to see an incoming video call from none other than my dear husband.
My heart hammered against my ribs as my hands trembled that I almost dropped the device, my throat suddenly going dry. Why was he calling right now? What did he want to say?
In a panic, I slammed the phone face-down on the couch cushion, pressing my palm against my chest as I desperately tried to force air into my lungs and regulate my erratic breathing.
That man was going to be the death of me.
***
I love Jude 0_0 I think this is the first time I’m writing a flirty Mmc. And I’m enjoying it... How is the Chapter?
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