The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 118

The sun was dipping below the horizon as I walked out of the office building. I had endured another grueling day at work, battling nosy co–workers and an all too invested boss. As I approached the parking lot, I couldn’t wait to escape the suffocating atmosphere and head back to the sanctuary of my apartment.

But as I turned the corner and spotted my car, my heart sank, and my steps faltered. There, in bold and viciously red spray paint, the word “whore” adorned every inch of my car’s windows. Fury boiled up inside me like a volcano about to erupt, and I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white.

“What the hell?” I muttered to myself, my voice shaking with anger and disbelief.

Without thinking, I stormed over to my defaced car, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. As I stood there, my phone buzzed insistently in my bag. I pulled it out, and Aria’s name lit up the screen. I answered the call with a voice quivering with rage.

“Aria,” I spat out, “you won’t believe what just happened.”

Aria’s voice on the other end was laced with concern. “What happened?”

My voice shook as I struggled to contain my anger. “Someone vandalized my car, Aria. They spray–painted the word ‘whore‘ all over it.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end, followed by Aria’s outraged exclamation. “Oh my god. Did you see who did it?”

“No, I didn’t!” I practically shouted into the phone. “And they must have done it hours ago because it’s already dry.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll figure this out. Just come home.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Okay”

As I hung up the phone, I couldn’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that coursed through me. This wasn’t just a random act of vandalism; it was a targeted attack on my character, an attempt to smear my name and reputation. Why would someone do this?

When I arrived back at my apartment, Aria was waiting for me outside the building. She rushed over to give me a comforting hug, and I clung to her, my

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Chapter 118

tears mingling with the anger that still simmered beneath the surface.

bad is it?” Aria asked

the embrace and wiped my tears. “I’ll show you,” I said, and she followed me

twist in anger as she took in the hateful

I walked back inside the apartment building, I couldn’t shake the anger and frustration that simmered within me. Who could have done such a vile thing, and

the torrent of questions that flooded my mind. I turned to Aria, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “It’s not like I know what I did

moment, her expression conflicted. She reached for the magazine on the counter and placed it in

I asked, the dread pooling in as I read the headline: “Sleeping her way

that had been smoldering within me erupted like a wildfire. “What the hell is this?” I shouted,

with compassion. “I picked it up at

shaking, I picked the magazine back up and flipped

false and damaging narrative. According to the tabloid, Jasper had tipped them off, claiming that I had been fired from my

the most was

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Chapter 118

personal gain. It was a betrayal

for.

my voice shaking with anger. “This is

nodded, her own expression filled with anger and disbelief. “I know, Evie. Jasper must

with possibilities, but I couldn’t dwell on Jasper’s motivations at that moment. I needed to address the situation head–on. “I need to find out what he’s up to,” I said, my determination unwavering. “And I need to set the record

updates on the situation. The news had already picked up the story, and Jasper was front and center,

“I have here a recording and a photo that prove beyond a shadow of

I watched Jasper produce a recording and a photo. The image showed Mr. Erickson and me in a seemingly compromising position, though I knew I never would’ve kissed him. He was merely standing in front of me,

recording, however, was even more damning. It was my voice, unmistakably, saying that Mr. Erickson had kissed me and that it had felt good. I had gone on to

was shocked to hear my own voice

even more was that I didn’t recall

had told Jasper. He had to have been close enough, and get me to say the right things. That night at

edited to paint a false narrative, and I couldn’t understand how he had managed to obtain such damning material. He’d made my words sound seamless and

watched the news alongside me, her expression a mix of concern and frustration. “This is a

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