The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 212

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Timothy proposed an unconventional way to celebrate my recent promotion–golf.

As we entered the venue, the sound of laughter and the clatter of golf clubs echoed through the air. The place was a vibrant mix of enthusiasts and casual players, all gathered to enjoy a round of golf in a climate–controlled

environment.

“This is fancy,” I told him as he took my hand. “I was expecting mini–golf, but this is very high–tech.”

“This is way better than mini–golf,” he told me. He then turned to the woman at the desk and asked for some golf balls. She gave him a bag full of them.

He led me to a station in the middle where a large golf course stretched before us beyond the entryway. I eyed the golf clubs skeptically.

“Trust me. You’re going to love this,” he said, handing me a golf club with a grin.

I smirked, twirling the club in my hand. “I hope you’re not expecting a hole–in–one from me.”

The first few minutes were filled with laughter as Timothy attempted to teach me the basics. I soon discovered that hitting a stationary ball with a club required a little skill, or maybe just hand–eye coordination. Meanwhile, Timothy swung his club with an air of confidence, as if the sport came naturally to him.

“You’ve got to feel the rhythm,” he said, demonstrating a smooth swing that sent the ball soaring and rolling into one of the pits. As it landed, the pit flashed with neon lights.

I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Rhythm? I thought this was all about brute force and precision.”

Timothy smirked at me. “It’s a delicate dance, my friend.”

As the game progressed, it became evident that Timothy’s golf skills were far from impressive. He’d just been lucky the first couple of tries. His swings were erratic, often sending the ball veering off–course or, in some cases, missing it entirely.

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his comical attempts.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he grumbled. “I don’t see you getting any.”

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I’ve gotten way more than you!” I protested, playfully punching him in the arm. “Maybe you should stick to ice hockey. At least there, you have a puck to hit and ice to slide on.”

He shot me a mock glare. “This is nothing like playing on ice. I’d take a hockey stick and a puck over this any day.”

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I took my turn, the golf ball soaring through the air and landing with a satisfying thud. As if wanting to punctuate my point, the ball rolled into the pit. “See? Not that hard.”

Timothy crossed his arms, feigning annoyance. “Beginner’s luck.“”

As the game progressed, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the unconventional outing. The atmosphere was light, and our competitive banter added a layer of intimacy to the experience. Despite Timothy’s less–than–stellar performance, he maintained a good–natured attitude, embracing the challenge with a sense of humor.

fake trees, Timothy let out a frustrated sigh. “I have to admit, Evie, I’m

and the precision required for golf. “Well, golf isn’t for everyone.

possesses.”

in, why don’t you. You’re almost reaching 300

he pointed to the screen above us. My lucky shots had

Evie, I’ve been thinking,” he began, and

curious about the

you hadn’t gone above and beyond, I would’ve been held down by my family’s expectations and Stella’s influence. Your dedication opened doors for me that I didn’t even know existed until

I was taken a

sincerity. “I’m glad I could help, even if it was indirect. Stella

genuine warmth in his eyes. “They definitely did.

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Chapter 212

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the uncertainty in his expression and wondered if there were feelings there that I’d missed before. Eventually, he nodded and looked

his neck, “It looks like my dad might be moving on

over to him, looping my arm

himself

our conversation. The air between us grew tense, and I could sense Timothy’s discomfort. “Timothy, I… I’m sorry. That’s a

“It is what it is, Evie. I expected him to move on, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be so soon. He

the hurt in his eyes, masked by a façade of indifference. “Timothy, it’s okay to feel upset. This is

he pulled me close. “I just don’t want to dwell on it,

environment for

hair. “That place could

bar inside the entertainment venue. As we entered, the

in shock. Jasper stood at the bar, his face flushed with alcohol. He was yelling at one of the servers, his words slurred

like I asked!” he drawled. “What sort of establishment are you

here?”

Timothy, who was checking out the drink menu, and tapped

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Chapter 212

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my hand a squeeze as I released him. He turned

was still berating the server in the corner. He

her alone!” I exclaimed, rushing over to get between

turned toward me, his gaze unfocused. “Evie? What the

red eyes widened. As