The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 48

The hospital room was dimly lit, casting a flourescent glow over Timothy’s frail form lying in the bed. A cry escaped my lips at the sight of him in such a weakened state. His face was pale, and his eyes were heavy with pain.

Fresh tears welled in my eyes as | approached his bedside. As | walked closer, his eyes snapped open and he smiled brightly. It was almost child-like, his eyes full of hope as he caught me standing there,

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. “Hi,” | replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” Timothy said. He tried to sit up but groaned at the pain in his shoulder. | rushed over and adjusted the pillows so that he could be propped up.

When | was sure he was comfortable, | pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. “Here, Timothy, you need to stay hydrated,” | said gently, offering him the water.

He smiled weakly and took a few sips, wincing slightly as he moved. “Thank you, Evie,” he whispered.

| shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m sorry | got you involved in all of this. | never thought he would go so far!” Timothy sighed. “No, Evie, this isn’t your fault. Bruce had the knife and decided to use it.”

“Still,” | looked away from Timothy’s intense stare. “If | hadn’t gone to him on my own, he wouldn’t have been able to kidnap me.”

Timothy's eyes filled with concern as he looked at me. “How long has he been harassing you for money? Was he like this when you lived with him?”

Taking a deep breath, | looked back at Timothy. It was time to be truthful, even though it was a truth | hardly wanted to acknowledge.

“Bruce was my stepbrother, but | hardly considered him my sibling.” | began, my voice trembling. “He was the reason | left home suddenly all those years ago.”

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“What?” Timothy's eyes widened.

1 took a deep breath, mustering the courage to speak on Bruce. It was a reality that | hardly told anyone, not even Aria. “When | was living at home with my father and stepmother, Bruce

was...challenging,” | began, my voice wavering with emotion. “He was always cruel. It started out childish at first.” Timothy's jaw clenched with anger, but he remained silent, encouraging me to continue.

“He would yank my air, call me names, pretty much just tease me,” | explained further. | hugged my torso and looked away as the shame returned in full force. It felt like | always let these things go farther than necessary.

“As we got older, that started to change. He would whisper nasty things in my ear, and he was always touching me,” | added. “Whenever | told him off, he would just push further.”

“What about your parents?” Timothy pressed, his fists tightening. “Don’t tell me that they knew and still did nothing?”

| wiped my eyes. “I tried to tell my father and stepmother about what he was doing, but they didn’t believe me. Well, they really didn’t seem to care,” | admitted.

“My father was just absent, and my stepmother, Bruce’s mom, thought | was just exaggerating about her son or making it up to get attention. Of course, Bruce got

worse.”

“God...” Timothy squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, like he could visualize the harsh memories pooling out of me. His heart monitor quickened its pace and | hesitated, placing my hand over his.

“| don’t want to stress you out with this,” | told him.

His eyes shot back open and he panted, “No, Evie, please. You can tell me, if you’re comfortable. | want to know what that bastard’s been doing.”

His fingers wrapped around mine, much colder in temperature. | ran my fingers over his swollen knuckles, which had begun to scab where the skin was torn. | fought the urge to kiss each individually, as if it would provide some sort of magic touch.

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He sighed, his lips parting at my touch. His skin was so cold, it must've felt nice that | was sharing my warmth.

“One night,” | continued, “It all escalated. | was in my room, lying down, when | heard Bruce creeping into my room. He kept trying to pin me down, saying...

| paused, watching Timothy's curious expression. The next part could come off unintentionally as a guilt-trip, which didn’t suit the situation with him being confined to a hospital bed. | wasn’t sure if we were ready to be honest about that day, no matter how much he apologized.

Still, it was what he asked for. | could set aside my filter for now. “He told me that if 1 was desperate enough to sleep with you, Timothy, then I’d spread my legs for him just as easily.” Timothy gaped at that, his entire countenance shrouded in horror at the

implication. Not a sound left him as he leaned back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. His grip began to slip away from my mine and | let him drop hist hand back on the bed.

Despite his reaction, | went on. “I fought back with everything | had. There was a lamp on my bedside table | managed to grab and hit him with it.”

“He was bleeding and furious, threatening to ruin my life if | ever told anyone. what had happened. He eventually passed out, and | thought that I’d killed him.”

Timothy's face darkened with anger. “You did the right thing. I’m so sorry, Evie. You never deserved any of that,” he said softly.

“| was terrified,” | confessed, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I knew | couldn't stay there any longer. So, | took what little money | had saved

and ran away. | up found myself alone in the wilderness, afraid that he would find me...”

“Evie.” He lifted his hand and brushed it against my cheek. He took my hand in his and pulled me closer. All at once, | found myself buried in his comforting embrace. “You were protecting yourself,” he murmured, his voice filled with compassion.

“| was lucky to meet Aria,” | said, my voice slightly muffled against Timothy's good shoulder. “She saved me and took me in. | was able to apply to law school with her support.”

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Timothy leaned back, gently wiping away my tears. “Figures you would bounce back after everything you’ve gone through.”

| laughed, the sound almost foreign to my ears. “And now, you've come back into my life,” | said softly. “I’m still bouncing.” Timothy frowned at that, but his hands were still cupping my face as he spoke. “I meant what | said about protecting you.”

| felt a warmth spread through my heart at his words. She reached up and took his hands, gently pulling them away from my face. “Thank you, Timothy.”

His heart monitor slowed and he nodded in response. A loud yawn escaped him and he eyed me apologetically. “It's probably the pain meds they have you on,” | told him, placing his hands in his lap.

Timothy's eyes began to droop, the pain medication taking its toll. “I’m so tired,” he mumbled, his eyelids heavy. | hummed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Rest, Timothy. You need to heal.”

He gave me a sleepy smile and murmured, “I will, but promise me you'll stay here.”

“Of course, I’ll be right here,” | assured him..

As Timothy drifted off to sleep, | sat there, watching over him. He’d gotten himself stabbed by trying to save me. It wasn’t a reality that | wanted, but the idea of such a sacrifice being done for me made my heart ache.

Before leaving the room, | leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Timothy,” | whispered. Wait, is he awake?!

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