The Hockey Star’s Remorse by Riley Above Story novel Chapter 174

Chapter 174 

The sterile, fluorescent–lit waiting room was suffocating, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. I couldn’t sit still; my foot tapped a restless rhythm on the worn linoleum floor. Timothy was still beside me, his jaw clenched so tightly that I could practically hear his molars grinding together. 

Olive clung to my leg, her little fingers digging into the fabric of my jeans. She was too young to understand the gravity of the situation, but she could sense the unease that permeated the room. I tried to keep her distracted with a small coloring book I’d found in the corner of the room, but her eyes kept drifting to the swinging double doors that led to the trauma bay. 

Every time those doors swung open, our hearts leaped into our throats, hoping for news, dreading what we might hear. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the nurse emerged from behind those doors. Her face was grim, and she looked worn out, like she’d been through a battle of her own. Olive immediately perked up, her wide eyes fixed on the nurse as if she held the answers to all her questions. 

I knelt down to Olive’s level, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you color a bit more, sweetie? We need to talk to the nurse for a 

moment.” 

Olive nodded and went back to her coloring, her little face scrunched up in concentration. 

I turned my attention to the nurse, who had approached Timothy and me. “Please, tell us how she’s doing,” I implored, my voice trembling with fear. and anger. 

The nurse sighed, her eyes filled with empathy. “We’ve stabilized Scarlett,” she began, and I felt a surge of relief wash over me. The bullets didn’t cause 

Emergency calls only. 

Chapter 174 

as much damage as we initially feared.” 

Timothy’s hand found mine, and we held on to each other as if our lives depended on it. In a way, they did. 

“But,” the nurse continued, and my heart sank, “we’ll need to transfer her to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) for further care and observation.” 

“How long will she be in the ICU?” I asked, my voice quivering. 

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The nurse hesitated for a moment before responding, “It’s hard to say for sure, but it may take a week or more before she’s ready to be discharged. We want to make sure she’s stable and on the road to recovery before we release her.” 

A week or more. The words echoed in my mind, and I felt a heavy weight settle in my chest. A week of waiting, of not knowing, of fearing the worst. It was going to be excruciating. 

Timothy’s grip on my hand tighterfed, and I could feel his frustration and helplessness emanating from him. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Olive, who had abandoned her coloring and was tugging at my sleeve. 

“Is Mommy going to be okay?” she asked, her innocent eyes searching for answers. 

I knelt down again to her level, trying to smile through my own fear. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure she gets better, Olive. She’s a fighter, just like you.” 

Olive nodded solemnly, and I couldn’t help but admire her resilience. She was only six years old, but she was already enduring more than any child. 

should. 

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The nurse, sensing the tension in the room, stepped closer to Timothy. “Do you two have any family we should notify?” 

Timothy hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing. “She was…she is my ex–fiancé’s sister.” 

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I couldn’t help but take note of his choice of words- “ex–fiance“. The wounds from his broken engagement still ran deep, and Scarlett’s condition only added more layers of complexity to an already twisted situation. 

The nurse nodded understandingly and handed Timothy a clipboard with paperwork. “I’ll make you an immediate contact so you can stay updated on Scarlett’s condition. Please fill out these forms in the meantime.” 

As Timothy began filling out the paperwork, I couldn’t shake the feeling of anger that had been building inside me ever since Scarlett had been. wheeled into that trauma bay, Anger at the shooter, at the senselessness of it all, and at the unfairness of life. Scarlett didn’t deserve this, especially if she’d been caught in the crossfire of Bruce and I’s feud. 

I paced around the waiting room, trying to channel my anger into something productive. Olive looked up at me, her innocent eyes filled with worry, and I forced a reassuring smile. But inside, I seethed with rage. 

“Why would someone do this?” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else. 

Timothy, still engrossed in the paperwork, didn’t respond. He was lost in his own thoughts, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. 

I watched as Timothy handed the completed paperwork back to the nurse and then joined me by the window. Olive had gone back to her coloring, her tiny fingers clutching crayons as if they were lifelines. 

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022% # 13:30 

With every passing minute, the sterile hospital waiting room grew colder, and my anxiety soared higher. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the minutes stretching into hours. I watched the clock on the wall, its ticking sound echoing in the silence. 

Timothy broke the oppressive silence. “Evie, it’s late. We should get Olive home. Heck, it looks like you both need rest.” 

His words pierced through my spiraling thoughts, and I felt a sudden wave of panic wash over me. I hadn’t even considered what to do next, and the reality of the situation was starting to suffocate me. Scarlett was in the ICU, fighting for her life, and I felt utterly helpless. 

I blinked back tears, struggling to hold myself together, but the dam of emotions was about to break. “I don’t know what to do, Timothy,” I admitted, my voice cracking with despair. “I feel so lost. 

Timothy moved closer to me, his strong arms enveloping me in a comforting hug. “Evie, it’s going to be okay, he whispered, his voice soothing. “Let’s get Olive situated, and then we’ll figure out the next steps. 

I clung to him, my tears soaking into his shoulder. The weight of the situation was unbearable, but in that moment, his support was everything I needed. 

After a few minutes, I managed to pull myself together. With Timothy’s reassuring words still echoing in my mind, I nodded and gently disengaged from his embrace, “You’re right. I’ll take her back to my apartment for now.” 

Timothy gave me a reassuring smile and gently squeezed my hand. “I’ll stay here with Scarlett for a little longer, see if I hear anything else.” 

His calm demeanor and unwavering support steadied me, and I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I couldn’t change the circumstances, but I could take care of Olive, and that was a small comfort in the midst of the chaos. 

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Olive, who had been engrossed in a picture book, looked up at us with wide, curious eyes as we approached her. Her innocent gaze was a stark contrast to the anger and despair that had filled the hospital room. 

“Hey, sweetheart, I said, crouching down to her level. “We’re going to take you home for a bit, okay? Aunt Scarlett is going to be okay, but she needs 

some rest. 

Olive nodded, her little face filled with understanding beyond her years. 

Timothy picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her small fingers clutching at his shirt. He kissed the top of her head lovingly, even though that day was probably the first time he’d formally met her.