The Hockey Star’s Remorse by Riley Above Story

Chapter 192

The morning sun was rising lazily over the city as I jolted awake to the incessant buzzing of my phone. Groggily, I reached for it on the bedside table, my bleary eyes squinting at the caller ID. It read “Scarlett.” My heart leaped

as I answered the call,

“Evie, is that you?” Scarlett’s voice sounded frail but filled with relief.

“Yeah, Scarlett, it’s me. What’s going on?” I asked, my heart pounding, I’d been waiting for this call for days.

Scarlett had been in the hospital for what felt like an eternity, and the anticipation of her discharge was eating

me alive.

“They’re letting me go today,” Scarlett said.

My eyes widened, and I glanced at the clock. It was earlier than I’d expected. “Today? Are you serious?” I replied,

my excitement building.

“Absolutely,” Scarlett affirmed. “I can’t stand being in this place anymore, and I want to see you and Olive.”

“That’s amazing! She’ll be so excited to see you!” I exclaimed.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Scarlett spoke again, her voice heavy with an unspoken

sadness. “How is she? I hope I hasn’t be disturbing her too much.”

I sat up in bed. “We’ve been keeping her distracted, but now I get to tell her you’re getting out.”

Scarlett let out a laugh, and I could hear the tension ease in her voice. “That’s good.”

“We’ll be down there as soon as possible,” I assured her, slipping out of bed. “Did you need me to bring anything?”

“Just some clean clothes,” she said. “And you don’t have to rush down here, either. I still have to fill out some

paperwork before I’m discharged.”

“Right,” I replied. “See you soon, Scarlett,”

I hung up the phone, my mind was racing. It felt like a load of pressure had been released.

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Olive was still asleep, her tiny frame curled up beside me. I gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face and whispered, “Olive? Wake up, hon.”

She groaned, further burying herself under the covers. I chuckled and lightly tickled her exposed toes, making her giggle.

“Your mommy’s awake, Olive,” I told her. “Just called and told me that she’s all healed.”

With that, Olive tossed away the covers and sat up, her wide eyes blinking wildly. “She’s okay?”

“Yep!” I grinned. “We get to bring her home today. Let’s get you dressed, okay?”

As we arrived at the hospital, Olive held onto my hand tightly. The sterile corridors and the clinical scent in the air seemed to make us both uncomfortable. I could tell she was eager to see Scarlett again, but the hospital environment added a layer of unease to her anticipation.

We made our way to Scarlett’s room, and Olive’s face lit up with delight as she saw her mother sitting on the edge of the bed. Scarlett’s auburn hair had grown unkempt during her stay, but her eyes sparkled with joy as she saw Olive’s eager smile.

“Mommy!” Olive exclaimed, running to hug her. Scarlett embraced her, her eyes filled with tears as she held Olive tightly.

“Olive, my sweet girl,” Scarlett whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming scene. Scarlett’s recovery had been a long and painful journey, and seeing her reunited with Olive filled me with hope.

After a round of hugs and laughter, I helped Scarlett get dressed in clean, comfortable clothes. It had been a while since she had worn anything other than the standard hospital gown, and the

simple act of changing into her own clothes seemed to lift her spirits.

As we left the hospital, I suggested, “How about we celebrate your release with some ice cream? What do you say, Olive?”

Olive’s eyes widened with excitement, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Ice cream, Mommy, please!”

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Scarlett’s face lit up with a grateful smile. “That sounds wonderful, Evie. I’d love that.”

We made our way to a nearby ice cream parlor, the tinkling of the door’s bell announcing our arrival. The cheerful atmosphere and the sweet aroma of freshly baked waffle cones filled the air. Scarlett’s eyes glistened with a mixture of happiness and relief as she surveyed the colorful array of ice cream flavors.

“Pick any flavor you two like. On me,” I encouraged her, and she eventually settled on a scoop of mint chocolate chip.

Olive, on the other hand, couldn’t make up her mind and requested a sample of nearly every flavor before deciding on the classic vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.

As we sat in a cozy corner of the parlor, I watched as Scarlett and Olive shared stories, laughter, and, of course, the delicious ice cream. Just the normalcy of it all set me at ease.

“So Evie, how has Timothy been?”

The sudden mention of his name jolted me out of my calm state. My eyebrows tensed and I frowned. I could still feel the soft beat of his heart beneath my fingertips from when I’d sat with him the other night.

“I heard about his mother’s passing,” Scarlett continued. “It was so awful to hear. How’s he holding up?”

I sighed, my heart aching for Timothy and his recent loss. “I honestly don’t know, Scarlett. He hasn’t been around much these past few days. I assume he’s dealing with funeral arrangements and everything that comes with it. I thought it best to stay out of his way.” This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Scarlett looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed with worry. “I understand your perspective, but maybe he would appreciate having a friendly face around, someone who understands what he’s going through.“”

I mulled over Scarlett’s words as we finished our ice cream. She had a point. Timothy had been so broken that night, and I wondered if he had anyone else to turn to emotionally. His family was in ruins, his mother was gone, and Stella was out of the question.

Despite the recent tension between us, I might have been his only shoulder to lean on.

“Maybe,” I told her, shoving a spoonful of cookie dough into my mouth. It wouldn’t hurt to see him again.

After dropping off Scarlett and Olive, I made my way back to the apartment. The taste of the ice cream was still lingering on my lips, a sweet memory in a day that had been bittersweet. We had shared moments of joy and celebration, but the weight of recent events still hung heavy in the air.

My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as I made my way to my door, fumbling for my keys in my purse. Just as I was about to insert the key into the lock, a voice from behind startled me.

“Evie.”

I turned to find Timothy standing there, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a somber and pensive expression.

“Timothy,” I said, genuinely surprised. “Hi. Didn’t expect you to get in so late.”

His gaze remained fixed on mine, searching for something I couldn’t quite discern. “I… I was handling some things,” he began. “You’ve been busy?”

“Hardly,” I said, “Scarlett was released today. It was pretty exciting.”

His eyes lit up at the news, probably the best news he’d heard all well. “That’s awesome. I’m glad she pushed through.”

I approached him, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “Timothy,” I said, my voice shaking, “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”

He smiled at me, his expression softening. “Thank you for last night, by the way.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “Wasn’t my best look…”

“You’re mother just passed. You’re allowed to mourn, Timothy,” I said, my voice soothing. “And I’m here for you.”

He looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before, and I wondered briefly if I’d misspoken. Suddenly, I was being drawn into a tight hug. I wrapped my hands around his torso, sighing as he placed his head in he crook of my neck. I rubbed my hand up and down his back, hoping it would offer some support.

He turned his head, and I shivered as his lips brushed against the shell of my ear. “Would you be able to be there? At her funeral, I mean,” he said in a low voice, almost conspiratorial.

I was almost lost in the feeling of his warm breath against my neck, and I wondered what it would feel like to have his lips there.

“Evie?”

His voice broke me out of my daze, thankfully before I’d fallen too deep. I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Of course, Timothy. I’ll be there. Just let me know the time and place,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling away. “I’ll text you the details.”

I felt like a loss, not having him in my arms. With every meeting, I was growing desperate for every touch, though each was as dangerous as the last. That promise of isolation felt like a distant

memory then as the scent of his cologne clung to me.

“Right,” I said flatly, desperately hiding the tension in my voice. “See you later.”

“Later,” he echoed, then flashed me a smile. With that, he turned and entered his apartment, leaving me standing there.

Eventually, I continued on to my own apartment, the heaviness in my heart persisting. I was falling hard, and there was no way of convincing myself otherwise. After everything that happened, I felt more tacky than relieved by that realization.

Regardless of how he really felt about Stella, his mother had just passed. I couldn’t fathom the pain he must be feeling, and I feared something deeper between us would complicate matters.

The least I could do for now was be there for him and offer my support.