The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 212



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. “l 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.”
fib
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.
After a particularly disastrous swing that sent the ball ricocheting off the fake
trees, Timothy let out a frustrated sigh. “I have to admit, Evie, I'm glad I get to
keep playing hockey. At least I'm not this hilariously horrible at it.”
I chuckled, 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 I'm not sure either of us
possesses.”
Timothy raised an eyebrow. “Rub it in, why don't you. You're almost reaching 300
points.”
I burst into laughter as he pointed to the screen above us. My lucky shots had
pushed me up to 270 points. Timothy was still floundering at a measly 180.
“You know, Evie, I've been thinking,” he began, and the humor began to die down
in his tone.
I raised an eyebrow, curious about the change in direction. “What's on your
mind?”
Timothy hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “If you hadn't gone above
and beyond, I would've been held down by my family’s expectations and Stella's
influence. Your dedication opened doors for me that I didn't even know existed
until someone else tried to gain control.”
I was taken a
aback by his sincerity. “I'm glad I could help, even if it was indirect. Stella and
Andy kind of imploded on themselves, you know?”
He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “They definitely did. My dad had called
me into his office, told me that
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Chapter 212
Stella had moved on.”
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fib
“That's good right?” I saw the uncertainty in his expression and wondered if there
were feelings there that I'd missed before. Eventually, he nodded and looked to
the side.
“Itis. It's just,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “It looks like my dad might be
moving on as well."
I set my golf club to the side and walked over to him, looping my arm with his.
“He's moved on?”
“I think he’s found himself a mistress,” Timothy said bitterly.
I blinked, 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 it?"
Timothy shrugged, attempting to brush off the impact. “It is what it is, Evie. I
expected him to move on, but I was hoping it wouldn't be so soon. He was never
exactly the type to stick around and wait.”
I could see the hurt in his eyes, masked by a facade of indifference. “Timothy, it's
okay to feel upset. This is your family we're talking about.”
He sighed and began smooth down the back of my hair. His expression softened
as he pulled me close. “I just don't want to dwell on it, you know? Let's talk about
something else. What are your plans now that you're a senior attorney?”
I hesitated, the discomfort lingering. “Mostly just improving the place, creating a
better environment for everyone. I also plan on mentoring and helping the future
incoming counsels.”
Timothy nodded, still petting my hair. “That place could use someone with your
vision.”
We decided to take a break from the weighty conversation and head to the bar
inside the entertainment venue. As we entered, the lively atmosphere seemed to
wash away our troubles.
I scanned the crowded bar, searching for a vacant spot, when my eyes widened
in shock. Jasper stood at the bar, his face flushed with alcohol. He was yelling at
one of the servers, his words slurred and abrasive.
“You didn’t put an olive in my martini like I asked!” he drawled. “What sort of
establishment are you running
here?”
I turned to Timothy, who was checking out the drink menu, and tapped his arm.
“I'm heading to the restroom.
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Chapter 212
You can order whatever and I'll just eat what you eat.”
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“All right,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze as I released him. He turned back
to the mounted screen and assumed hummed.
I marched toward Jasper, who was still berating the server in the corner. He had
his drink tipping dangerously in his waving hand, spilling heaves everywhere.
“Jasper, leave her alone!” I exclaimed, rushing over to get between the,
He turned toward me, his gaze unfocused. “Evie? What the hell are you doing
here?”
His gaze quickly flew over my shoulder, and his red eyes widened. As he saw
Timothy approaching, his lips widened into a crooked smirk.
“Oh, I see what's going on,” he said, his voice oozing with condescension. “Just
as I suspected from such an “elite’ lawyer!”
1
“Jasper, please,” I said impatiently. “You've been drinking way too much. Clearly.”
“Oh!” His lips formed a large “O” and he tilted his head. “Are you going to sue me
for drinking? Who know, you might just get another raise out of it.”
I frowned, taken aback by his aggressive tone. “Jasper, this isn't the time or place
for this. Just leave her alone.”
He scoffed, a drunken sneer on his face. “I don’t care what label they give you.
You're just a junior attorney, and you have no idea what it takes to be
successful.”
My patience waned, and I could feel anger bubbling beneath the surface. “Says
the man who's lost twice to me. If you want there to be a third time, then go right
ahead!”
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Before I could say more, Timothy
stepped between us, his expression
firm. He towered over Gasper arid
spatehed fhe lirink from his hands
before slamming it down on the


nearby table. “Is there a problem

” .
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Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “The fuck you want, lover boy? I'm just teaching Ms.
Sinclair here that she needs to learn her place.”
Timothy's jaw clenched, a flash of anger in his eyes. “You don't get to talk to her
like that. Ever. Now back off.”
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A series of gasps swept the room as Jasper took a swing at Timothy, catching
him off guard. He managed to catch the tip of Timothy's chin, making him
stumble backward.
“Timothy!” I cried out, but he was already lunging at Jasper.
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The bar erupted in chaos as the two
began to exchange blows. oe
forward, atsmmting ic bres up the
fight, but my efforts were futile in the
face of their heated exchange. The
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the latest chapter there!
“Stop it! Both of you, stop!” I pleaded, but the frenzy continued..
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Security eventually came rushing
toward us. The bouncers quickly
intervened, pulling Jaspyr. a
more Th

Timpthiapart e chaos had drawn
the attention of the entire bar, and I
could feel the weight of disapproving
stares. The content is on
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chapter therel
Jasper, now seething with anger, glared at me. “You think you can replace me,
Evie? You'll never be a better lawyer than me.”
The bouncers, having witnessed the altercation, made a swift decision. “You're all
out. The night's over.”
I exchanged a frustrated glance with Timothy as security escorted us toward the
exit.
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