The Hockey Star's Remorse Novels & Stories

“Every morning skate, every late night in the gym, every hit I’ve taken. Hockey isn’t just what I do — it’s who I am. If I lose that… who the hell am I supposed to be? Just some guy sitting in this big empty penthouse with nothing?” My heart ached so deeply for him. I rose up and carefully sat beside him on the couch, pulling him into my arms as best I could without hurting his knee. He turned toward me and buried his face in my neck, his big frame trembling slightly with the force of emotions he’d been holding back for weeks.

She was probably berating herself for the thoughtless comment about basketball practice, for forgetting about the scandal that had cost him his position on the team. "Oh God, Liam," she said, her voice thick with remorse. "I'm so sorry. I completely forgot about... I can't believe I said that. I'm such an idiot." The pain in her voice made Liam want to reassure her to tell her that it was okay, that her memory lapse was understandable given everything that had happened between them. But he couldn't afford to show her kindness now. He had to maintain the cold, cruel persona he had created, and he had to keep pushing her away no matter how much it hurt them both.

I couldn’t sleep. The memory of her walking away followed me everywhere, even in my empty apartment. To escape the pain, I threw myself into hockey. I trained harder than ever, using the exhaustion to numb the emptiness in my chest. I gave everything I had to the game, skating until my lungs burned and my body could barely move. I pushed myself harder and harder until I finally made it to the NHL draft. And now five years had passed. Five years of silence and wondering where she was, whether she hated me, and whether she ever thought about those nights we spent together in college.

It was my mission now to ensure she had one and I would do what I could to make it so even though she was being unreasonably emotional and naive about what was going on. The bar man came around. "Gentlemen, I am afraid you'd have to leave my bar. You have broken the rules." "Are you blind?" I asked. " Didn't you see him stand from his chair and assault me just now?" He cleared his throat. " Sorry about that. Evans you'll have to leave or I am calling the cops. I don't think that would be good for your hockey image." Evans muttered an inaudible curse and let go of me.

"The article claims Aaron was throwing a tantrum over contract disputes. But the truth is, the Blizzard community foundation just finalized the purchase of a new youth hockey rink in South Chicago yesterday morning. Aaron is the primary donor." I looked directly at Marcus. "Toby, pull up the arena tracking logs from yesterday’s skate. Aaron wasn't ignoring lines; he was testing a modified titanium blade prototype that the equipment manager logged into the system at 1:15 PM. He slammed his stick because the composite flex was misaligned a standard performance frustration. I want the technical log emailed to the sports editor at ‘The Slate’ within ten minutes. Then, I’m calling the journalist

I opened the article. My jaw tightened as I read. Sources have questioned why the hockey star abruptly left the States… Another picture of me. Another round of speculation. I stopped reading. Fuck. I’d left the States to get away from this. Away from the cameras. Away from people asking what happened. And now they’d followed me home. What happened if they kept digging? What happened if they found out? I shoved my phone into my pocket. “I’m leaving.” I didn’t wait for anyone to respond.

"You are! You said that I should abort it cause you won't be giving any support! So what are you doing here? Huh!? This is all your fault! You're nothing but a cruel and unrepentant individual! All you want to do is to hurt people! You're Remorseless!" "Don't say that..." He said and lowered his head. "Leave, please." "What do you want me to do? I'll do everything so that you can forgive me." "You will do everything?" "Yes." "Forgive everyone and don't bother me, EVER." "I-I..." He was hesitant from what he's about to say, so he brought up a different answer "Is that what you really want? Be honest with me, Carolina." "Yes," I said trying to stop myself from being emotional "Leave."

At a version of myself I didn’t want to speak about until God knows when. “Don’t.” I muttered, and I even thought Harper hadn’t heard it until she let out a small sigh. “You still miss it. We both know you do.” I replied with a laugh, though it felt more empty than full of mirth. “No, I don’t.” “Lila.” “No, I do not miss hockey.” I said, my voice raising slightly. “I’m only doing this because I have no choice, and I have to do it properly.” I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. Not because that wasn’t what I wanted to say, but because of the tone I had used on her.

After everything he'd done, he should live the rest of his life with this guilt clawing at him, knowing exactly what kind of damage he'd inflicted. Knowing he was a piece of trash. “I will try my best at rehab and see if I can get things back on track.” I took another step towards the stairs. Then I stopped and turned my head slightly, looking at him over my shoulder. “But Slade Mercer…” My voice dropped to a whisper. “If I ever fail to make it to the NHL, just know you were the reason.” His face crumpled and he staggered back. I turned towards the stairs, leaving him to wallow in whatever twisted emotions he was feeling now. For once, they weren't mine to carry.

"That was my career and I knew how much I had longed to get the offer. Like, it's the prayer answered for every hockey star and it is not something that one would not want to miss out." I could hear the conflict in my own voice. The way I was trying to justify what I'd done while also acknowledging that it had hurt her. That it had been selfish. "I am sorry about the decision that I took but then, I had to go to Bianca for a contract marriage which was expected to last just exactly when the contract elapsed." A contract marriage; that's all it was supposed to be. A business arrangement, something temporary that wouldn't matter once the hockey season was over.