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.

a frustrated sigh. “I

realizing the stark contrast between the controlled chaos of a hockey game and the precision required for golf. “Well, golf isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain finesse, which

possesses.”

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

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

I’ve been thinking,” he began, and the humor began to die

about the change in direction. “What’s on your

my family’s

I was taken a

even if it was indirect. Stella and Andy kind of imploded

eyes. “They definitely did. My dad

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Chapter 212

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there were feelings there that

is. It’s just,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “It looks like my dad might be

to the side and walked over to him, looping my arm with his. “He’s

think he’s found himself a mistress,” Timothy said

struggling to process the sudden shift in our conversation. The air between us grew tense, and I could sense Timothy’s discomfort. “Timothy, I… I’m sorry. That’s a lot to take in. How do you feel about

to move on, but I was hoping it

masked by a façade of indifference.

me close. “I just don’t want to dwell on it, you know? Let’s talk about

the discomfort lingering. “Mostly just improving the place, creating a better environment for everyone. I also plan on mentoring and

“That place could use someone with

take a break from the weighty conversation and head to the bar inside the entertainment venue. As we entered, the lively

stood at the bar, his face flushed

in my martini like I asked!”

here?”

to Timothy, who was checking out the drink menu, and tapped his arm. “I’m heading to

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right,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze as I released him. He turned back to the mounted

was still berating the server in the corner. He had

leave her alone!” I exclaimed,

his gaze unfocused. “Evie? What the

his red eyes widened. As he saw Timothy approaching, his lips widened