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!”

looked up as I entered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, meeting

her a half–hearted glare. “This is not a

demeanor

gravity of the situation sinking in. “I already met Kamran, remember?

eyes widened.

I nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

banter replaced by a somber tone. “Are you sure you want to go to dinner with them?

lingered, but a sense of obligation pushed me forward. “Kamran asked Timothy to invite me. I don’t know what his game is, but I

be careful, Evie. If things get too uncomfortable, don’t

I couldn’t ignore. The prospect of facing Kamran felt like a bizarre social experiment and left me on

Aria followed. My hands fumbled through the hangers, my mind

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of my

escaping my lips. “How about one that says “I’m not

skin as I

the silence, her attempt at humor returning. “So, you and Timothy, huh? Did you ever think it would

bitter laugh escaping me. “Not in a million years.

twinkle of mischief in her

a wry smile. “I don’t like to kiss and

stunning us both. I rushed out of my room to open it and found

to kiss me.

breath, and cast a glance at Aria, who gave

said, taking his hand. “Let’s

of the restaurant. The warm glow spilled from the

“I need

my

suppose I should have expected certain expectations. “Particular? What does that

hair. “Look, my father, Kamran, he has his own set of rules, expectations, you name it. Just follow along, be

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stomach. “Rules? This sounds

the only way to navigate the Kamran landscape, trust me. I’ve

sense of foreboding settled over me, and I let his words sink in. “What kind of rules are

he speaks to you, don’t bring up certain topics that verge on pop–culture, and don’t challenge his opinions. That’s the

blinked in disbelief, the absurdity of it all hanging in the air. “No direct eye contact? What is he, a