The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 195

| watched raindrops trickle down the windowpane as | put the finishing touches on my black dress. | had switched from outfit to outfit, hoping that the next one would look more presentable than the last. Aria had been sitting on the edge of my bed, silently observing my preparations.

“So you're really going,” she said, finally breaking the silence. | paused, my reflection in the mirror staring back at me with vacant eyes. “I’m going,” | replied quietly.

Aria’s brow furrowed as she considered my response. “Do you think his family will be okay with you there?” Her question dripped with apprehension, although she tried to mask it.

| sighed, turning to face her. “I don’t know, Aria. But Timothy invited me personally, and | can’t refuse when he’s going through such a difficult time. We're just friends, and friends are there for eachother, so they'll have to deal

with it.”

“Evie, | just worry about you,” Aria admitted, her tension now giving way to a softer tone. “He’d better at least protect you from that crooked family of his. He’s practically throwing you to the wolves.”

| shook my head, though | understood her point. It was complicated in more ways than one. “I appreciate your concern, Aria, but this is important. He’d do the same for me.”

She sighed, her anger subsiding. “I guess you're right. It's just hard to see you so caught up in his problems sometimes. | hope he appreciates what he has in you.”

Aria’s words lingered in the air as | finished preparing. I’d put up with a lot from Timothy family, and Stella was a whole other matter. But | couldn't help it.

| had to be there for him today, and no amount of anger or uncertainty could change that. “| should be back by three,” | told Aria.

With a final glance at the mirror, | grabbed my coat and umbrella and left for the funeral home. The rain had not let up, and it seemed as if even the heavens were mourning the loss of Timothy’s mother.

When | arrived at the funeral home, there was already a hoard of people filing inside the tall, somber building. After parking, | grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and got out to follow the crowd.

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12:38 Chapter 195

Inside, the atmosphere was heavy with gret. People were huddled in groups, whispering words of consolation:to one another. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with a pervasive feeling of melancholy. | searched the room for Timothy, and there he was, standing near the entrance

As our eyes met, | saw a flicker of gratitude in his gase. He approached me. his lips curling into a faint, sad smile.. “Evie, thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Tembraced him, basking in the warmth of his presence “wouldn't be anywhere else. Timothy. I’m here for you.” | assured him..

As | pulled away, his eyes bore into mine, and | sensed a flicker of something more beneath his gaze. But before! could decipher it, he led me to our seats, placing a hand gemmy on the small of my back. We walked in silence, and | couldn't help but take notice of the various pairs of eyes trained on the two of us.

The room was slowly filling with mourners, and the service began with the sound of hymns and heartfelt ealogies. Timothy sat beside me, his hand occasionally brushing apainamine as if seeking solace in the physical connection.

As the priest delivered his sermon, | noticed a tension in Timothy's shoulders. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his face a mask of dread. | took his hand and gave it a light squeeze

When it was time for attendees to share their memories of Timothy's mothet watched as he stood and walked to the front of the room. He took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he recounted movies of his childhood, of moments with his mother that would forever be etched in his mind.

The room fell silent, save for the occasional sniffle or stifled sob. Once Timothy’s speech ended, he looked over at me. Our eyes met, and I gave him an encouraging smile. He didn’t need to say anything the look he gave me spoke volumes.

The rain had abated by the time the funeral service concluded. As we moved to the reception area, the attention around us had grown more apparent.

| couldn't help but notice his family stealing glances in my direction, their hushed whispers carrying an obvious amount of judgment. It wasn’t the first time | had sensed their disapproval, but today it seemed more pronounced, more overt

Timothy, standing to my left, must have noticed my discomfort. After his friend, Ethan, came up and offered his condolences, Timothy turned to me and tapped my elbow.

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“You doing all right?” he asked gently.

+5

| tucked a lock of hair behind my ears, shifting my gaze back to him. “I should be asking you that. Still hanging on?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but his attention was immediately drawn elsewhere as he observed something behind me. | turned to follow his gaze and saw Kamran steadily approaching, was tall and impeccably dressed as usual.

Kamran wasted no time in expressing his distaste for my presence, and his anger was palpable. “Evie,” he said with thinly veiled condescension, “I can’t say | expected to see you here so soon after Timothy called off his engagement to Stella.”

| was taken aback, my surprise evident in my eyes. “Timothy called off the engagement?” | stammered in disbelief.

Timothy nodded, his jaw clenched with anger. “Yes, Evie. | planned on making the announcement public soon, but it seems my father here couldn't wait to share his thoughts.”

Kamran smirked, his anger disguised beneath a veneer of satisfaction. “I just hope, Timothy, that you’re happy with your decision. It’s not every day a man gets to crush his own potential.”

Timothy met his gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. “I am happy with my decision, Dad. And as for potential, that will be for me to decide without your help.”

Kamran raised an eyebrow, his anger simmering just below the surface. “Well, I'll leave you to it, then,” he said. with a mockingly polite tone, his eyes flickering toward me. “Have a pleasant life.”

As Kamran walked away, Timothy turned to me, his anger dissipating as he sighed. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Evie. Let's get out of here.”

| followed him as he made his way toward the parking lot, feeling a mix of confusion and concern. “Where are we going, Timothy?” | asked, unable to shake the sense that there were secrets yet to be revealed.

He didn’t answer immediately, unlocking the door to his car and holding it open for me to get in. Once we were both inside, he finally spoke, his voice slightly excited. “You'll see. Just trust me.”

As Timothy started the car, | couldn’t help but ponder over where he could be taking us, and so soon after the funeral. He had the heat time we left the lot, but my limbs were still trembling. | couldn’t deny

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that he was making me nervous, even with how innocent his request seemed.

He didn’t seem like the type to grieve recklessly, but I'd prepare myself for any surprises to come. 4l4

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