His Chains My Wings Chapter 11
The other side of the Earth.
Within the confines of the training base, a colossal screen flickered to life, showcasing the latest sports news from back home.
The image of Wesley, one knee hovering just above the ground in a moment of proposal, filled the screen, and Alivia, clad in a pristine training outfit, stood transfixed. Her right leg, still on the mend, seemed to reflect her inner turmoil as she regarded the perfect couple with an expression that betrayed nothing.
Coach Edgar Voss approached her, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He cast a glance at the screen, following her gaze, and couldn’t resist a teasing remark. “How does it feel to witness your ex proposing to your sister in front of the entire nation?” His tone was light, but the underlying seriousness of the situation hung in the air.
Alivia lifted a glass of water from the table beside her, taking a slow, deliberate sip. As the cool liquid passed her lips, the corners of her mouth twitched into a barely perceptible smile, a fleeting moment of vulnerability.
Turning to Edgar, her eyes sparkled with clarity and determination. “Respect, and best wishes,” she replied, her voice steady, a hint of steel beneath the surface.
She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle before adding, “After all, trash belongs with trash.”
With that, she reached out and switched off the training base’s screen, her expression remaining impassive. Yet, the slight chill in her fingertips revealed that the scene had affected her more than she let on.
“Coach, tomorrow, I can officially start teaching students,” she announced, her voice firm, as if declaring a new chapter in her life.
Edgar’s gaze softened, a flicker of pride shining in his eyes as he patted her shoulder. “I knew you would get there,” he said, his voice warm and encouraging.
Alivia donned her coat, deliberately leaving behind the chaotic remnants of her past and the absurdity of the scene she had just witnessed. Instead of returning to her residence, she felt an instinctive pull toward a sanctuary of sorts—a quaint antique shop where she often found solace.
As she pushed the door open, the bell above chimed with a pleasant, clear sound that resonated in the stillness.
Bathed in the warm glow of yellow light, Sebastian Winslow sat at a workbench in the back, his focus unwavering as he meticulously repaired a delicate piece of porcelain.
At the sound of the bell, he did not look up immediately, but a soft smile crept onto his lips, as if he sensed her presence. “Make yourself comfortable. I just have a bit left to finish here,” he said, his voice soothing and calm.
Alivia nodded silently, settling onto the worn sofa, her mind drifting back to the moment she had first walked into this shop. It had been shortly after her arrival, and the old jewelry box her grandmother had entrusted to her had suffered damage at one of its corners.
In her moment of despair, Edgar had suggested, “There’s an antique shop at the corner. The owner is a very skilled American—maybe he can help you.”
That day, she had entered with a mindset of ‘might as well try,’ and there he was—Sebastian, wearing a simple shirt, bent over a vase, his profile exuding a quiet elegance.
He had taken her scratched jewelry box, examined it with care, and assured her, “Don’t worry, it can be repaired.” Those words had wrapped around her like a warm blanket, offering comfort when she needed it most.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a gentle voice broke into her reverie.
Alivia looked up to see Sebastian standing before her, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. The warmth radiating from the cup mirrored the kindness in his eyes.
At the same time, he placed the familiar old jewelry box on the low table in front of her, his expression earnest. “It’s been restored. Please check and see if it meets your expectations.”
He settled onto the sofa beside her, and Alivia carefully opened the box. The joints fit seamlessly, the lock moved with a fluid grace, and even the deep scratches had been expertly treated, polished back to life with care.
A genuine wave of gratitude washed over her, and her eyes sparkled. “It’s even better than I imagined. Thank you, Mr. Winslow,” she said, her voice sincere as she reached for her wallet.
She promptly paid the previously agreed fee of 40, handling the transaction with a sense of finality. Carefully, she set the jewelry box aside and stood to leave, feeling a mixture of relief and nostalgia.
Back in her apartment, Alivia placed the jewelry box with reverence on her bedside table, a tangible reminder of her grandmother’s love. She made herself a simple dinner, the aroma filling the space with a sense of comfort. Just as she set the table, a knock at the door startled her, causing her to hang up on an unanswered call.
Peering through the peephole, she was surprised to find Sebastian standing there.
He had changed into a dark gray cashmere sweater that accentuated his features, and he held a brown paper bag in his hand, a thoughtful gesture that caught her off guard.
Suppressing her astonishment, Alivia opened the door.
“Ms. Seddon?” he greeted, lifting the paper bag slightly. “I just moved in next door and thought I’d bring some homemade pastries as a housewarming gift for my new neighbor.”
“I didn’t expect…” Alivia began, her voice trailing off as she took in his warm smile. “Such a coincidence.”
Looking into his calm, inviting eyes, she felt the chill from the earlier missed call dissipate, replaced by a warmth that enveloped her.
She stepped aside, ready to invite him in, when suddenly a commanding voice echoed down the hallway, cutting through the moment like a knife. “Ms. Seddon, Mr. Pridmore has sent us to take you home.”
The unexpected intrusion sent a jolt through her, leaving her momentarily at a loss for words.
