The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 66

The soothing hum of the air conditioning blended seamlessly with the soft tapping of keyboards around me as | sat at my desk in the law firm’s office. The usual tasks of legal research and document preparation filled my day, but there was a subtle shift in the air. The fervor surrounding my place in the firm had begun to dissipate, leaving room for a new current to take its place.

With a quiet sigh, | leaned back in my chair and allowed myself a moment of respite. The past weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but working was a helpful distraction. The dust was settling.

Pulling out my phone, | opened a social media app and began scrolling through my feed. What | saw took me by surprise a cascade of photoshopped images featuring Timothy and me, plastered all over the internet. Each image portrayed us in various scenarios, from romantic walks on the beach to playful moments in the park.

The hashtag #Tevie had taken hold, uniting fans in a digital symphony of support.

| couldn't help but be both touched and astounded by the outpouring of affection. It was a testament to the power of fandom. The images were creative and varied, each one telling a story that transcended the chaos.

The captions accompanying the images were filled with words of encouragement. and well wishes, tagged with the hashtag #TEVIE.

As | continued to browse, | stumbled upon a particularly endearing image. This one was one of the only real ones in a sea of faked images. In it, Timothy and I are laughing together in the courtroom, right after our win.

With a contented sigh, | closed the app and returned to my work, but the images. and the hashtag lingered in my thoughts.

The day passed in a blur of activity, and as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, | found myself completing my last tasks for the day. Packing up my belongings, | made my way to the exit, my thoughts still tethered to the digital tapestry of support that had been woven around us.

The city streets were bustling with the energy of the evening rush as | made my way home. The glow of the city lights cast a soft radiance over the streets, emitting neon pinks and blues.

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My trance was interrupted when a woman's voice called out to me, pulling me from my reverie.

“Scuse me, miss? Spare some change, would ya?” The voice was low and gritty as it emerged from the shadows. A cupped hand reached out to me from below and | met a pair of sad, gray eyes.

The woman was huddled against the brick wall, her face worn and weathered. Her eyes held a plea for assistance, and my heart went out to her. My hand instinctively reached into my bag, searching for some cash to give her.

“I'm so sorry, but | don’t have any cash on me right now,” | replied, my voice tinged with regret. The woman's shoulders slumped, her disappointment evident. “Ah, it’s alright. Thanks anyway.”

| couldn't shake the feeling of compassion that welled up within me. It was a bitter cold night, and the thought of this woman braving the elements with nowhere to turn struck a chord.

In a moment of spontaneity, | found myself saying, “How about | treat you to dinner instead? There’s a nearby diner where we can sit and have a warm meal.”

The woman's eyes widened with surprise, her lips parting in disbelief. “Really? You'd do that for me?” | nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Of course. No one should go hungry, especially on a night like this.”

With gratitude shining in her eyes, the woman followed me to the diner just around the corner. We settled into a cozy booth, the warm interior a stark contrast to the chilly air outside. As we perused the menu, the woman introduced herself as Maria. Her voice held a mix of weariness and resilience, and | couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship with her.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, fiddling with her gloves.

| waved off her concern. “Nonsense. It’s my pleasure.”

Her eyes brightened, and a genuine smile spread across her face. “Sounds weird, but | have a taste for breakfast food.” Head Top Metal Stamping? Del a 10% Dlace:

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I grinned. “So do |.”

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As we perused the menu together, our conversation flowing naturally as if we were old friends catching up. The diner’s cheerful atmosphere seemed to wrap around us. | had forgotten what it was like to have a decent interaction with a stranger.

As the food arrived stacks of fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, and perfectly scrambled eggs — | took a moment to look at the woman across from me. She appeared more at ease, her shoulders less tense than before. She looked slightly younger too.

“| never thought I'd end up here,” Maria admitted, her gaze distant as if lost in the memories of her past.

| reached across the table and placed my hand on hers, offering a gesture of comfort. “Life has a way of throwing curveballs, doesn't it?”

She nodded. “But this is nice. A warm meal and a friendly face there’s still good people in the world.” that reminds me

| smiled, genuinely touched by her words. “You deserve so much more than this. If

may ask, how did you wind up like this?”

I

Maria snapped of a piece of bacon and popped it into her mouth, not bothering with the fact that the grease was dripping onto her gloves. “Eh, mishandled finances, unexpected medical bills...the whole shebang.”

“| see,” | said, unsure of what to say next. Instead, | poured more syrup on my pancakes, hoping they’d gain enough moisture to go down easy. This was a nice diner overall, but the food wasn’t exactly top-tier.

“But I’m just a nobody anyway,” she mumbled, stabbing her eggs with a fork. Her pixie- like face was starting to emerge now, like the food was restoring her youth. As she wiped her mouth on a napkin, a smear of brown and pink was left on its white surface.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

“| wanna hear about you,” she continued. “I’ve seen your pretty little face on the news, but I’m blanking on why.” “Oh!” A hand fluttered to my chest and | felt the blush heat my cheeks.

Where would she have seen me? Was my face just being broadcasted everywhere?

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“Have you heard of Timothy Hayes, the hockey player? | was his lawyer for the case against the hockey club,” | told her. Maria seemed trustworthy, and | didn’t expect her to blabber to anybody after this.

“You're Timothy's lawyer?” Sarah asked, a glint of intrigue in her eyes.

| nodded, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief at having confided in her. “Was, but yes. It’s been... challenging, to say the least.”

Maria’s gaze held a blend of understanding and curiosity. “And what about your relationship with ‘em? The news is saying you two are a real pair.”

Anervous laugh escaped my lips. “Well, the news tends to exaggerate things. Timothy and | have a professional relationship, but we've also become friends of sorts. He’s... complicated.”

Maria leaned forward, her eyes locked onto mine. “Complicated how?” | hesitated for a moment, grappling

With how much to share. But there was something about Maria’s presence that made me want to be honest. “He’s dealing with his own demons, struggles from his past. And sometimes, | find myself getting pulled into his world, trying to help him navigate it all.”

Maria’s gaze softened, and her words were laced with empathy. “It sounds like care about him.” | nodded, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. “I do. But sometimes, caring can be... complicated too.”

Maria took a sip of her coffee and hummed. | couldn’t help but notice Maria’s constant fiddling with something in her pocket. She'd been doing it the entire conversation, but she seemed agitated with it this time around.

you

As her arm movements became more prominent, Curiosity got the better of me, and | finally inquired about it.

“What's that you keep playing with?” | asked, a hint of amusement in my voice. Maria’s eyes flickered nervously. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a trinket.”

But something about her response seemed off, and a sense of unease settled over me. Before | could question further, Maria slid out of the booth, her movements hurried.

Hood Top Metal Stamping? Get a 10% Discount (Start How) Chapter 66 “| should be going,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Thank you again for the meal, Evie.”

My eyes widened in surprise as a small recorder slipped from her grasp and fell onto the floor by her boots. | blinked, not sure if what | had just seen was real. But there it was, a small recording device, lying on the checkered floor.

Before | could think, | was on my feet, my instincts kicking in. | couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency, like this was important somehow. As | reached out to grab the recorder, my fingers barely brushed against it before Maria snatched it away.

“Are you kidding me?” | growled, reaching out to grab her shirt collar. She narrowly escaped my grasp and was already pushing out the entry doors and into the cold streets. | had just reached the doors when a sudden shout stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey! What are you doing?” a voice exclaimed, and | turned to see a diner employee rushing toward me. She raised an eyebrow and eyed me suspiciously.

“I'm sorry, | just...” | stammered, glancing out the frosted windows. The woman was nowhere | sight. The diner employee's eyes stayed trained on me. “You still need to settle your bill,” she said, smacking her gum.

With a frustrated groan, | took out a fifty and shoved it into her palm before pushing through the doors. | ran in the direction I'd seen her go, straight ahead and deeper into the city.

As | sped down the sidewalk, my mind was still racing. What all had wound up on that recorder?

| decided to take a walk around the area, hoping that maybe I'd catch sight of her again. My footsteps were brisk, my mind consumed by thoughts of the recorder and its potential contents.

| took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It was then that | realized | had walked quite a distance from the diner. | sighed, realizing that | might have lost any chance of finding the homeless woman.

| really screwed up with this one.

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