The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 233

The car ride was suffocating. I felt the ropes digging into my wrists, rubbing the skin raw. Glancing sideways, I saw Bruce, his face etched with conflicting emotions as he drove. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, wrestling with a dilemma that I couldn’t quite place.

I needed to find a way to crack through his facade, to spark a flicker of realization in him, a glimpse of the person he thought he was.

“You know, Stella was right,” I ventured cautiously, my voice shaky yet deliberate. “You’re nothing like

Timothy.”

The words seemed to jolt Bruce. He shot me a quick, intense glance, his jaw tightening as if trying to suppress an eruption of emotions. “What the hell are you talking about?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tense silence in the car.

I pressed on, sensing a crack in his armor. “Timothy would’ve killed me already if he wanted. He’s just that determined as a person, even to a vicious degree.”

Bruce’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening. “Don’t test me, Evie,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

But something stirred inside me, a desperate need to reach the person I once knew. “You always had my best interests at heart, even when you didn’t know how to show it,” I continued, ignoring his warning. “You never learned to express it because you never had anyone to teach you.”

The mention of his mother seemed to strike a nerve. Bruce’s eyes flickered with a mix of anger and pain. .“Stop it,” he bit out, his voice strained. He reached for the device streaming our conversation and

abruptly shut it off.

But I couldn’t stop now. “Where was your mother when we were teenagers?” I pushed, ignoring the fear that simmered beneath my skin. “We were left to navigate our own chaos.”

Bruce’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel tighter. “I said stop talking about that!” His voice shook with a raw intensity.

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Chapter 233

“I had to deal with my mother’s sudden return,” I pressed on, desperation lacing my words. “It tore

open old scars, Bruce.”

The car fell into an eerie silence, the tension thick enough to suffocate us both. Bruce’s grip relaxed on the steering wheel, his jaw twitching. His gaze flickered to me, a whirlwind of emotions swirling in his eyes anger, confusion, and a hint of vulnerability.

–

what it was like,” Bruce muttered, his

to bridge

do you want from me?” Bruce finally asked, his voice

to,” I whispered, my voice laced with hope. “We

always had a soft spot for you,” I lied, my voice tinged with manufactured sincerity. “Even when

He snorted. “Sure.”

attempting to bridge the gap between our tumultuous histories.

a flicker of surprise and something akin

• of the engine a constant companion in our tense silence.

the nerve to show her face to you again,” Bruce started out of nowehere, his voice laced with bitterness. “But she always seemed…nicer than my own mother.”

a certain pain beneath the surface. “What

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I asked, hesitant yet curious about this

cook for me,” he began, a flicker of nostalgia coloring his words. “Whatever I wanted to eat, she’d just make it. And it would usually

+5

agreement. “Yes, if my mother knew one thing, it was how to

at that, but he fixed

at school. I would’ve never even considered doing track if she

encourage me to.”

Mia, a nurturing figure in Bruce’s life, conjured a pang

amount of mothering could’ve saved Bruce. He seemed to have already been

unfixable darkness before their families

a hint of vulnerability seeping into his tone.

was…there for me.”

Bruce spoke, memories of Mia drifted through my mind like elusive shadows. The

on at games, offering simple yet profound gestures of affection,

within me.

– Bruce’s loss of Mia was also my own. The absence of this

became an echo chamber of shared silences and unspoken sentiments. Bruce’s

a facade of indifference, now lay exposed in the subdued

‘the dashboard lights.

softly, surprised at my own genuine