The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 58

As | sat curled up in bed, engrossed in a book, my phone buzzed. An unknown number popped up on the screen and a chill ran up my spine, finding it all too familiar.

Tentatively, | opened the message to find a simple, yet intriguing question: “Are you still willing to go on that date with me?” Confusion washed over me as | tried to recall any recent interactions that could lead to this message.

Who are you? | asked.

He texted back, My apologies. It’s Alex.

| gasped, my mind racing to figure out how he had gotten my number. The last time | had seen him was at the trial weeks ago, but | hadn’t given him my contact information.

My thoughts inevitably drifted to Timothy. He had been on my mind so much lately, and our complicated relationship made the idea of going on a date with -someone else feel like a betrayal.

However, the memory of Linda and their close bond surfaced, and a hint of frustration followed. Perhaps going out with Alex would be an opportunity to make Timothy realize what he could be missing. It wasn’t about playing games or seeking revenge, but rather asserting my worth and reminding myself that | deserved genuine affection and attention.

Feeling more confident, | typed back, Sure, I'll go on that date with you.

We arranged to meet at a nice restaurant, and | rushed to get ready for the evening. | stood in front of my closet, carefully inspecting the array of dresses. hanging before me. As | fussed over which dress to wear, | felt my stomach churning with anxiety.

Part of me hoped that this date would be a fresh start, a chance to move on from the complex web of feelings | had for Timothy. But another part of me, buried deep within, didn’t want the date to go well at all.

Shaking off those thoughts, | decided on a simple but elegant black. As | slipped it 1/6

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1. on. | caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair cascaded down my shoulders, and | tried to style it ina way that exuded grace and poise.

Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do. Alex was a charming and successful hockey player, admired by many, but | knew that he had his own baggage and history with Timothy. Would going out with him just be a way to provoke Timothy, or was | genuinely interested in seeing where this date could lead?

With a final adjustment to my hair, | took a deep breath and reminded myself that this date was simply casual. If | was lucky, maybe something would come out of it. | needed to give Alex a fair chance and not let Timothy’s presence overshadow the evening.

Awhile later, Alex sent a text asking for my address. After receiving it, he arrived exactly thirty minutes later in a sleek, gray car. He stopped just at the entrance of the apartment gates and stepped out.

| walked over and activated the gates with the code. After they slid open, squealing on their hinges, | passed through and waved at Alex. He was leaning on the side door, hands in his pockets, as he smiled at me.

“Nice ride,” | said, breaking the silence. “Thank you, Evie,” he replied with a grateful smile. “You look lovely.” “T-Thank you,” | stuttered, walking closer.

He opened the passenger door and took my hand, guiding me inside. As | settled into the passenger seat, | noticed a bouquet of roses on the dashboard.

“Oh, are these for me?” | asked, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. Alex grinned. “Yes, they are. A little something to start the evening off right.”

| accepted the roses with a grateful smile, touched by the sweet gesture. It was clear that he had put thought into tonight, and | felt a wave of excitement wash over me. Maybe this evening would be more enchanting than | had imagined.

As we drove to the restaurant, Alex asked, “So, how have you been since the trial?”

| kept my response casual, not wanting to divulge too much information. “I’ve been alright, trying to focus on moving forward with my career since I’m technically famous now.”

Alex chuckled. “Technically? You’re practically on every news site in the country, Evic. You ARE famous.” | tucked in my chin and nodded. “I guess.”

There was a comfortable silence between us. The city lights danced outside the window, and | found myself lost in thought, wondering where this evening would lead.

When we arrived at the restaurant, | was taken aback by its grandeur. The place was nothing short of a palace, with ornate decorations and opulent chandeliers. As Alex led me to a secluded balcony, | couldn’t help but feel like | had stepped into a fairy tale.

The balcony offered a breathtaking view of the city below, with stars twinkling in the night sky. Soft, ambient lighting created an intimate atmosphere, making me feel like we were the only two people in the world.

“| hope you like the view,” Alex said, his voice warm with sincerity. “It's stunning,” | replied, genuinely captivated by the beauty around us.

Alex and | settled into our secluded corner, surrounded by the gentle hum of conversations and the aroma of delectable dishes wafting through the air.

“So, Evie,” Alex began with a genuine smile, “tell me more about yourself. What inspired you to become a lawyer?”

| took a moment to gather my thoughts before answering. “Well, ever since | was a child, I’ve had a strong sense of justice. | always wanted to stand up for those who couldn’t defend themselves, to be a voice for the voiceless.

As | spoke, Alex’s eyes remained fixed on me, attentive and focused. “That’s admirable,” he replied with a gentle nod. “You must have worked hard to get to where you are now.”

| chuckled softly. “It hasn’t been easy, but challenges make us stronger. I’m sure you know all about that considering you're a hockey star.”

“Fair enough,” Alex said with a shrug. “I’m no social hero, though.”

Between bites of delicious food, we laughed and shared anecdotes from our lives, 3/6

creating an intimate bubble amid the bustling restaurant.

As dessert arrived, Alex’s gaze grew more intense, and he leaned closer, his voice soft and tender. “Evie, | can’t remember the last time | had such a magical evening. You are truly one of a kind, and | feel so lucky to have met you.”

Awarnth spread through my chest, and | felt my cheeks flush with a mixture of joy and nervousness. “Thank you, Alex,” | replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “I feel the same way.”

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his, and I felt a gentle spark of electricity pass between us. His touch was tender and reassuring, and in that moment, it felt as if time had stopped.

“So, Evie,” Alex continued, his tone sharp and probing, “tell me about Timothy. What's he really like?”

The elegant restaurant that had once felt so enchanting now seemed clouded with tension as Alex’s cheerful demeanor had shifted to something darker. The soft candlelight cast flickering shadows across the table, reflecting the unease that had settled between us.

| hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “He’s a complicated person,” | finally replied, choosing my words carefully. “There’s more to him than meets the eye, like anyone else.”

Alex closer, his eyes narrowing. “Come on, Evie. | know there’s something you're not telling me. You two have a history, and everybody can see it.” Apang of frustration surged within me. It felt unfair that Alex was pushing me to reveal things about Timothy when | had barely

known him myself. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to share personal details about Timothy,” | said firmly.

He leaned back in his chair, a scowl forming on his face. “You're still protecting him,” he said, his words laced with bitterness. “Even after everything he put you through, you still defend him.”

My patience was wearing thin, and | felt the need to defend myself as well. “It’s not about defending him, Alex. It’s about respecting people’s privacy and not judging them based on hearsay.”

He scoffed, his irritation evident. “Privacy? He doesn’t deserve privacy after the

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commotion he caused. And don’t act like he doesn’t have you under his thumb, especially since you're trying to act as his shield.”

| clenched my jaw, feeling a mix of anger and hurt rising within me. “I’m not shielding him,” | retorted. “I’m just choosing not to spread rumors about him. That's not who | am.”

Alex’s expression softened for a moment, but the tension remained. “You're too good for him, Evie,” he said with a hint of sadness. “You deserve someone who will treat you right, not someone who will break your heart and move on to the next girl without a second thought.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. | knew that Timothy had hurt me but hearing it from someone else felt like reopening a wound that had barely begun to heal.

“| know what | deserve,” | replied, my voice steady. “But it’s not your place to decide who | should be with or how | should feel about someone.”

Alex’s frustration seemed to intensify, and he snapped, “You're deluding yourself, Evie. You think he’s going to change, but he won't. He’s a man-whore, and that’s never going to change.”

“I'm leaving,” | said, my voice barely audible as | pushed my chair back and got up from the table.

“No, you're not,” Alex said, picking up his glass of wine. He gave it a sip before setting it back down. “You definitely don’t have anything else going on.”

The tears | had been holding back finally spilled over, and | couldn’t help but let them flow freely down my cheeks. While his tirade of verbal abuse was gut- wrenching, it was also confusing. What had | don’t to provoke this?

| wiped away my tears, trying to regain my composure before returning to my meal.

We sat in silence for the rest of the night, the weight of the evening’s conversation hanging between us like a heavy cloud. The magic of the night had dissipated, leaving behind a sense of sadness and uncertainty.

Was | never going to heal?