No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 567

"Best of three!"

"No problem," I replied, turning around to pick a cue stick that caught my eye.

"Good choice," Henrik complimented, just as I got a hold of the cue.

I frowned slightly, but he quickly explained with a smile, "That's my favorite cue stick."

"Really," I said mockingly, glancing at the cue in my hand. It even had an inscription on it.

Curious, I took a closer look and saw it was engraved with a stylized 'Q'.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "This isn't yours, it's..."

I was about to say it was Ernest's, but then it hit me – how could that be possible? Ernest and he were rivals; there was no way Henrik would have Ernest's cue stick. Plus, these personalized cues were usually the mark of a pro.

I once asked Ernest how good he was at snooker, and he modestly said he was just okay. So, how could someone like him have a custom cue, especially one in Henrik's possession? And Henrik wouldn't claim it as his favorite if it wasn't his.

"Whose is it, then?" Henrik asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don't know whose it is, but it's definitely not yours. It's got someone else's name on it."

Henrik gave me a thumbs up, "True snooker spirit, you know your stuff."

Snooker spirit, the first person to call me that was Brown, and now Henrik too. I wondered if it was a coincidence or something more.

But I had to clear the air, "Stop calling me that, I don't like it."

Henrik looked puzzled, "Hmm?"

"Because a jerk once called me that," I said, locking eyes with Henrik.

"A true protégé," Henrik praised.

Besides being mentored by the renowned Jefferson, it was also my natural talent. Jefferson once said I was born for snooker.

Jefferson had even tried convincing Conrad to let me pursue snooker seriously, but Conrad outright refused. I still remember his words, "Chosen one, my foot. It's just dumb luck."

And since then, Conrad rarely took me to Jefferson's hall to play. Even if we went, it was mostly him playing while I watched.

Conrad never wanted to acknowledge my skill, despite my obvious talent.

But this chosen one, even without regular practice or being a pro, could effortlessly clear the table as soon as I picked up a cue.

I snapped out of my thoughts, caressing the 'Q' engraved on the cue, and looked at Henrik, "It's time to keep your promise."

"Sure, name it," Henrik said, eager to keep his word.