The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 163

As | sat across from Scarlett in the dimly lit corner booth of a cozy downtown restaurant, | couldn't help but feel a storm of emotions brewing within me. She had called me earlier that day, asking if | could meet her and Timothy to discuss things over dinner. | agreed, though the thought of meeting Timothy face to face made my stomach churn with unease.

As | fiddled nervously with the menu in my hands, | couldn’t help but wonder if right, but the anxiety he’d seen the email yet. It would look odd if | asked him out was eating away at me.

Scarlett, on the other hand, was a master at composure. She had been freaking out back at my apartment, but here she was looking straight-laced as usual. She was determined to stay one step ahead, even after what | had done.

| looked across the table at Scarlett, her hair illuminated by the soft candlelight. She was sipping on a glass of red wine, her eyes fixed on the entrance. My heart pounded in my chest, and | took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

“Scarlett, are you sure this is a good idea?” | asked, my voice trembling slightly.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

She turned her gaze toward me, her expression sympathetic. “Evie, trust me. | wouldn’t have suggested it if | didn’t think it could help. Besides, he needs to know that you’re on his side too.

| sighed, my anxiety still gnawing at me. “I just don’t know, Scarlett.” Before she could respond, the restaurant’s door swung open, and in walked Timothy.

He looked different from the last time | had seen him. His messy brown hair had been cut shorter, and he the scruffy beard that he’d been growing was cleanly shaved off. He wore a worn leather jacket and had a slight hesitation in his step as he scanned the room, searching for us.

Scarlett waved him over, and as he approached our table, my heart rate skyrocketed. Timothy’s eyes met mine, and | could see a mixture of emotions flicker across his face—surprise, uncertainty, and perhaps even affection.

“Hi, Scarlett,” he said briskly, then looked to me on the other side of the booth. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, | felt like time had stopped. The tension was

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palpable as he took the seat beside me.

“Hey, Evie,” he said, his voice soft and sincere, “it’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

| tried to muster a smile, the corners of my lips twitching awkwardly. “I've been... okay. How about you?” He let out a sigh, though his lips curled with a smile. “I've been hanging in there.”

His kindness caught me off guard, making my heart race faster. The tension | had expected was nowhere to be found in his demeanor. Either he hadn’t seen the email, or he was a good actor.

“How was the cake? | remembered that you like banana nut, so | figured | could save you a slice.” | felt a flush creep up my cheeks. “Oh, um... it was good,” | said, trying to keep my tone even. “Really good, actually.” His eyes twinkled with amusement, and he nodded appreciatively. “Good to hear. | trust your judgement.”

Scarlett, sensing the need to shift the conversation, interjected, “Well, now that we've broken the ice, | think it’s time to get down to business.”

Timothy, ever polite, inclined his head. “Of course, Scarlett. What do from me?” you need

She took a deep breath before launching into her plan. “I believe, Timothy, that you have a more sensible approach to things than Stella. You might be able to handle the estate dispute better. What if you made some conditions of your own, something that could help both parties see eye-to-eye?”

Timothy hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between Scarlett and me. “I appreciate your confidence in me, but | don’t have the authority to make decisions. for Stella. I’m her fiancé, not her husband. Any decision | make would need to be authorized by her.”

His words struck a chord within me. There was a glimmer of possibility in what he had just said the notion that Stella could authorize him to make decisions on her behalf. An idea began to form, and | felt a spark of hope.

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“Timothy,” | said tentatively, “could you talk to Stella? Convince her to give you the authorization to make decisions for her in this matter?”

He furrowed his brow, clearly weighing the implications of my suggestion. “It’s not something | can just ask her, which I’m sure you know. She values her control.”

| bit my lip, desperation clawing at my chest. “Don’t look at it as you taking something away from her. You would simply persuade her into granting you temporary authority over certain decisions, just so she won't have to concern herself with those kinds of matters.”

“Yes,” Scarlett chimed in. “Less time worrying about legal matters means more time worrying about the wedding. And it makes you look like a responsible man by taking such a ‘heavy’ burden off your fiance’s shoulders.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as Timothy considered our proposal. Scarlett watched us both intently, her eyes flicking between our faces. The weight of the situation seemed to press down on us, the outcome hanging delicately in the balance.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Timothy let out a sigh. “I'll talk to her. | can’t promise anything, but I'll try my best to persuade her.”

Relief washed over me, and | managed a grateful smile. “Thank you, Timothy. Your willingness to help means the world to me.”

Scarlett nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “Let’s hope this can be the turning point we've been looking for. If anyone can bridge this gap, it’s you, Timothy.”

As we Sat there, the tension from earlier in the evening seemed to dissipate, replaced by a more comfortable atmosphere. Timothy leaned back in his chair, his expression relaxing. “You know,” he said, “I’m absolutely starving. Should we order something?”

| chuckled, grateful for the change of subject. “Yes, let’s. | could use some comfort food right about now.”

Timothy waved a waiter over, and we perused the menu, discussing our choices as if we were old friends catching up. The calming atmosphere of the restaurant and Timothy’s warmth beside me brought back memories of a time when we weren't so strained.

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As we waited for our food to arrive, Scarlett shared stories of her recent ventures in marketing. Timothy and | didn’t have too many lighthearted stories to tell, so we listened closely and occasionally chuckled at her stories. For a brief moment, it felt like we were back to the days when we could spend hours chatting about everything and nothing.

| couldn't help but smile as | listened to him laugh. He had been looking more worn out with each week, but just an hour of laughter and food seemed to bring that healthy glow back to his cheeks.

“You look a little more alive now,” | said absently, my gaze tracing over his features as he drank from his cup. “Healthier.”

He grinned, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “Well, you still manage to brighten my day.”

The compliment caught me off guard, and | felt a warmth spread through me. While Scarlett was distracted with her phone, | used that moment to lean closer to

him.

“| take it you haven't run into any crazy fans either, huh?” | asked.

He grinned. “None that | know of.”

| leaned closer, giving him an inquisitive look. “So, no strange fan emails gushing over your abs this week?”

That made him laugh out loud, and the sound almost warmed me. We hadn’t humored each other in a while.

“Not that I’ve checked,” he said finally, stabbing his potatoes with a fork before lifting it to his lips. “I don’t check my emails until the end of the week. A friend of mine told me to just hire somebody, but | like making it feel personal, ya know?”

While he munched happily on his potatoes, that light, airy feeling returned to my stomach. | hadn’t thought that waiting would be the hard part, but here we were. At the same time, | liked that he was enjoying himself, and that he didn’t look so drained in my presence like he had in Stella’s.

As we enjoyed our dinner and continued to chat, | found myself feeling more at ease than | had in a long time. The anger and resentment that had clouded our relationship seemed to fade away, if only fora moment.

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