Looking at Rashid who had many things to say in front of him, the last string of reason in Dimitrov's mind broke, and the words rushed out.
"Yes, you thought Gawain was going to use me, you thought Gawain was going to frame me, you thought everyone in the world was trying to stop my progress and growth."
"But if as a coach you are blinded by your own biases and can't even see my situation, then I don't know what I can continue to learn from you."
"Maybe, Roger, we should end this partnership."
Rashid looked astonished.
Dimitrov was also a little surprised. He really didn't want to say it in such a way, so he couldn't help but shake his head slightly, showing a look of pain; but it was hard to hold back...
Then, Dimitrov closed his eyes, and instead of apologizing or giving in as usual, he gritted his teeth and spoke out in one breath.
"I don't know, Roger, I don't know either, but everything I just said was true."
Opening his eyes again, Dimitrov looked at Rashid, whose face was full of shock and unwillingness. He wanted to say something, but he finally softened his heart.
He knew that Rashid could no longer listen. Similarly, Rashid also thought that he had refused to accept opinions. This also meant that their communication had reached a dead end. It was obvious that the two were still talking and communicating, but everything was gone. it is invalid.
All attempts are in vain.
Rashid noticed that Dimitrov was hesitant to speak, as if grasping a life-saving straw, "Gregor, you need to calm down, these words just now are not your thoughts, they are what John instilled in you. It’s a misconception and you need to regain your senses and think about what’s going on.”
Dimitrov was a little weak.
The words swirled on the tip of the tongue, but they were all swallowed in the end. They were just beating the wall, and there was no point in continuing to communicate. Then Dimitrov shook his head gently, "Roger, Gawain is still waiting for me. "
Then, Dimitrov took a step forward, leaving Rashid standing alone, messy in the wind.
Amidst the noise of hunting, you can hear Rashid's furious words, "You will regret it," and a series of unpleasant swear words mixed in. You don't even need to see it with your own eyes to picture Rashid's ferociousness in your mind. His face, waving arms, and voice are like sharp blades that can still hurt people even without physical contact.
Dimitrov's footsteps were hurried and he ran away in a somewhat embarrassed manner, just wanting to get away as quickly as possible.
Turning a corner, Dimitrov entered the passage between the two training fields.
The space was narrow, and at a glance, Dimitrov could see an embarrassed figure standing facing the court with his back to the aisle, his head slightly lowered to cover his face, trying to hide his whereabouts.
Dimitrov really didn't have the heart to worry about others hearing their conversation and spreading the word. His only idea now was to quickly enter the training ground and temporarily put all the troubles behind him. His eyes just passed over that The figure is missed without pausing.
But, does it look familiar?
Dimitrov's footsteps had already passed by, but he came back again, bent down and looked at the side of his face.
"...Emily?"
Pullan bared his teeth in annoyance, turned around, showed an awkward smile to Dimitrov, tugged at the barbed wire fence of the training ground with his fingers, and gently pulled it twice, "The greening of Roland Garros needs to be strengthened. "
There was no greenery or shade around the training ground, so there was no way to hide her whereabouts. She was like an ostrich, burying her head in the sand but not caring about her exposed body.
Dimitrov reacted, and the smile at the corner of his mouth rose, looking a little helpless, "Did you hear everything?"
Pulan grinned, "Sorry."
Dimitrov waved his hands repeatedly, his smile revealing a bit of bitterness, "Emily...can you not tell Gawain?"
At this time, Dimitrov returned to his usual gentle appearance, but there was a sense of fatigue in the corners of his eyes and shoulders. It was not anger, sadness, or loss, but simple fatigue, as if he had just completed a five-hour game. During a marathon, I don’t even have the energy to vent my emotions.
Pullan knew that emotion, a kind of weariness and also a kind of discouragement.
Pulan nodded, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. If you don't want to tell it, you can trust my ability to keep it secret."
As he spoke, Pu Lan also made a gesture of zipping up his mouth.
"But……"
The end of the words was slightly longer, and Pu Lan was also a little hesitant. She and Dimitrov were not that familiar. After all, the two of them had met only a limited number of times, and their position at this moment seemed awkward. She was not even sure whether she should give it to her. Dimitrov's opinion, but she said it anyway.
"Gregor, this is just my personal opinion. I think maybe you should talk to Gawain. I think Gawain won't mind, but will give you some opinions."
After all, her inner thoughts were spoken out, but Pulan was a little worried. She was not sure how Dimitrov would react, so she quickly added another sentence.
"By the way, my coming to Roland Garros is also a surprise. Gawain doesn't know about it."
Dimitrov was chewing on Pulan's words carefully, and then his attention was dragged back. Looking at Pulan, who had a somewhat reserved and shy expression, a smile crept up to the corner of his mouth. It was not helpless or bitter, but a kind of sincerity. Genuinely cheerful, he also made a small joke.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
"Also, you have arranged some surprise activities. In fact, I can cooperate with you. For example, let's scare Gawain. I think that is a good idea."
Looking at Dimitrov who was eager to try, Pulan blinked and said, "Gregor, are you sure? Are you sure that the result was not that we were scared?"
"Uh..." Dimitrov thought seriously, "I think it's very possible."
"Haha." Pulan couldn't help laughing happily.
Not far away, a few fans turned their heads and noticed the movement here——
Pu Lan was alert at the first moment and immediately raised his voice, "Gregor, thank you for giving me your autograph."
Those eyes found a reasonable explanation before they had time to doubt. Dimitrov's female fans are also a powerful force in the tour.
Including themselves.
In twos and threes, the fans who were watching Gawain's training rushed over and greeted Dimitrov one after another.
Pulan naturally distanced himself and was blocked by the crowd. He smiled at Dimitrov through the turbulence, gave a thumbs up, and said silently, "Come on in training!"
Dimitrov's mood also brightened a little, and surrounded by fans, he took steps toward the training ground.
Pullan let out a long breath and took another step towards the barbed wire fence. He found a space in the corner and looked at Gawain sweating on the court. He was focused and undistracted, bathed in the golden sunshine, like Apollo.
(End of chapter)
