The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 216

The city lights glowed dimly in the distance as I stepped out of the office building.

“Timothy?” I called out, uncertain if my eyes were playing tricks on me.

He straightened up, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Hey, Evie. Fancy seeing you here.”

I shook off the confusion, my tired brain slowly processing the unexpected encounter. “What are you doing here?” I asked, a hint of suspicion coloring my words.

Timothy hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to share his intentions. “I thought maybe we could grab dinner together,” he finally said, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Dinner? The idea sparked a twinge of excitement in me, the prospect of spending time with Timothy outside the confines of our workplace strangely appealing. “That sounds nice,” I replied, my weariness momentarily forgotten. “Where were you thinking?”

A subtle grin crossed Timothy’s face as he gestured toward the street. “There’s a cozy little place a few blocks from here. What do you say?”

I nodded in agreement, a sense of anticipation building within me. As we walked together, the city’s night sounds enveloped us in a comforting hum. However, Timothy’s next words shattered the tranquility.

“Oh, by the way,” he began, his tone taking on a cautious edge, “my father and his girlfriend will be joining us for dinner.”

My excitement deflated like a punctured balloon, replaced by an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Your father and his girlfriend?” | echoed, my mind racing to process this unexpected turn of events.

Timothy nodded, seemingly oblivious to the internal turmoil he had just unleashed. “Yeah, Kamran thought it would be nice for us all to get together. Maybe he’s trying to make amends, you know?”

Make amends? The words hung in the air, a heavy cloud of uncertainty settling over me. I had never been close to Timothy’s father, Kamran, and the mere thought of spending an evening with him and his girlfriend sent shivers down my spine. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a genuine attempt at connection.

An internal struggle ensued, the rational part of my mind warring with the uneasy feeling in my gut. Timothy’s

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hopeful expression added to the pressure, as if he genuinely believed this dinner could be a step towards reconciliation.

Against my better judgment, I mustered a forced smile. “Sure, why not? It might be a good opportunity for, uh, bonding.”

Timothy’s face lit up. “Great!”

phone. She looked up as I entered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, meeting the parents already? My, my, Evie, things are moving

a half–hearted glare. “This is not a joke, Aria.

demeanor shifting

gravity of the situation sinking in. “I already met Kamran, remember? At the holiday party when I threw a glass of champagne on

widened. “Oh,

I nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

somber tone. “Are you sure you want to go to dinner with them? I’m sure Timothy would understand

sense of obligation pushed me forward. “Kamran asked Timothy to invite me. I don’t know what his

“Just be careful, Evie. If things get too uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to walk

truth I couldn’t ignore. The prospect of facing Kamran felt like a

retreated to my bedroom to find an outfit, Aria followed. My hands fumbled through the hangers, my mind wrestling with the dilemma of what to

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the chaos of my indecision. “Need any fashion advice for

a flicker of a smile escaping my lips. “How about one that says “I’m not a

The fabric felt cool against my skin as I slipped into the dress. She turned me around and helped me with the zipper as

at humor returning. “So, you and Timothy, huh? Did you ever think it would be

escaping me. “Not in a million years. It still doesn’t

of mischief in her eyes. “He’s a good kisser,

“I don’t

rushed out of my room to open it and found Timothy on

in to kiss me. “You

and cast a glance

I said, taking his

spilled from the windows, casting a welcoming aura that belled the storm brewing within me. As I unbuckled seatbelt, Timothy turned to me

voice soft but earnest, “I need to prepare you for my father. He’s a bit…

my

I should have expected certain expectations. “Particular? What

he has his own set of rules, expectations, you name it. Just follow

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stomach. “Rules? This sounds like a military operation,

a small, rueful smile. “It’s the only way to navigate

foreboding settled over me, and I let his words sink

bring up certain topics that verge on pop–culture, and don’t challenge his opinions. That’s the short list, but it

all hanging in the air. “No direct eye