Chapter 166
The Hockey Star’s Remorse
TIMOTHY POV
Timothy had never been much of a chef. He could whip up something decent, much like he had when heâd cooked for Evie, but
that was a loving gesture fueled by his own need to impress her. He had to impress Evie in other ways now, which included
getting on Stellaâs good side and getting her to sign those authorization
papers.
With a newfound determination, Timothy stood in Stellaâs apartment, a mismatched apron hanging awkwardly from his tall frame,
and a mixing bowl in one hand. He had brought the ingredients for pancakes, imagining that a homemade breakfast would
impress her. Pancakes seemed like a safe choice simple, delicious, and universally beloved.
Stella watched him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, her arms folded across her chest. He had let himself in,
attempting to surprise her, but he hadnât known she was an early riser. âWhat are you doing?â she asked.
Timothy tried to keep his enthusiasm from waning as he held up the mixing bowl. âIâm making you breakfast,â he declared with a
smile.
Stella raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smirk. âReally? Youâre cooking for me?â
He nodded. âYep. Thought Iâd surprise you.â
Stella's eyes sparkled with amusement as she sauntered over, her gaze fixed on the contents of the bowl. âWell, Iâm intrigued.
What's on the menu?â
âPancakes,â Timothy replied hesitantly, watching her response closesly.
Her expression quickly shifted from joy to annoyance as she saw Timothy
preparing the pancake batter. She put her hands on her hips, her annoyance clear. âPancakes? Seriously?â
Timothy blinked, his heart sinking at the abrupt change in her demeanor. âUh, yeah. Is that a problem?â
Stella sighed, her irritation becoming more pronounced. âI donât eat carbs, Timothy. Iâve told you that before.â
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He felt his frustration bubbling beneath the surface but forced a tight smile. He didnât recall hearing that at all. âRight. But I
thought maybe just this once...â
She interrupted him with a sharp gesture. âNo, Timothy. I donât make exceptions when it comes to my diet.â
He bit his tongue immediately. He had gone out of his way to make a special breakfast for her, and her dismissive attitude stung.
âOkay, fine,â he said, his tone terse. âWhat do you want instead, then?â
Stella considered for a moment before replying with a haughty air, âEggs. Scrambled, with some avocado toast on the side.â
Timothy suppressed a sigh of frustration. âAlright, eggs and toast it is.â He set the mixing bowl aside and reached for the eggs in
the refrigerator, his movements sharp and deliberate.
As he cracked the eggs into a bowl and started whisking them, Stella watched him with a look that bordered on smug
satisfaction. âYou really should pay more attention to what I like, Timothy. Itâs not that difficult.â
He gritted his teeth, the edge of his patience fraying. âIâm trying, Stella. But I canât read your mind.â
Stellaâs eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. âOh, Iâm sure you're trying your best.â
The tension in the room hung heavy as Timothy finished cooking the eggs and plated them with a side of sliced avocado. He
placed the dish in front of Stella, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. âHere you go, just like you wanted.â
Stella took a bite, her expression softening slightly as she savored the food. âMmm, not bad,â she admitted, her tone less
abrasive.
Timothy sighed in relief, glad that his efforts had paid off, albeit grudgingly. âIâm glad you like it.â
As she ate, the air between them remained charged with an unspoken tension. Timothy couldnât help but wonder if his attempts
to please Stella were worth the frustration and anger that seemed to be a constant undercurrent in their, interactions. He kept
Evie has his driving force.
Ahappy Stella meant less trouble for Evie, it seemed. Besides, that protective
[e)
order had forced Evie to stay away from Stella, not Timothy. It wasnât the win that Stella thought it was, and he was perfectly fine
with that.
Stella, on the other hand, seemed to relish in the power dynamic he was presenting. She had made it clear that Timothy had to
cater to her preferences, and he complied for now, albeit begrudgingly. It was a small victory in her eyes, a way to assert her
dominance, which she seemed to desperately need.
The tension in the room was palpable as Timothy tried to find the right words. He hated the idea of starting the day with an
argument, especially after his attempt to make things right. âLook, Stella, I've been pretty short with you lately, and I want to
make it up to you.â
Stella considered for a moment, tapping a finger against her lips. âYou can make it up to me by letting me throw a wedding
shower for us.â
Timothy raised an eyebrow, surprised by her request. A wedding shower? It wasnât what he had expected, but if thatâs what it
would take, he was willing to agree. âSounds good.â
Her response was swift, and her words carried an edge of determination. âGood. I'm going to start planning it right now. It's going
to be amazing!â
As Stella excitedly brainstormed ideas and started jotting down plans, Timothy couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and
resignation. He had agreed to them having a wedding shower, and he would stick to his word. But one thought nagged at him.
âStella,â he began cautiously, âisnât it usually the maid of honor who throws the shower?â
Stellaâs response was quick. âTimothy, this is our wedding, and I want everything to be perfect. I need to be in control of the
arrangements to ensure that itâs just the way I want it.â
Timothy sighed, realizing that arguing with Stella about this wouldnât get him anywhere. âAlright, Stella. It's your show..â
Her reply was lighthearted, a stark contrast to her earlier anger. âDonât worry. It'll be perfect, I promise.â
Stella finished her breakfast of scrambled eggs and avocado and seemed pleased.
Ill
with it overall. As she took the last bite, a sudden vibration from her phone. interrupted her.
She glanced at her phone, her brow furrowing in puzzlement at the caller ID. She quickly silenced the ringer and shot a nervous
glance in Timothyâs direction. He met her gaze with curiosity as the phone rang again.
âWho's that?â Timothy asked, his voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.
Stella hesitated for a moment, her fingers absently tapping the edge of her phone. âJust a business call,â she finally replied,
attempting to sound casual.
Timothy raised an eyebrow. âBusiness call? Is it serious?
Stellaâs gaze darted around the room, avoiding Timothy's penetrating stare. âItâs nothing, really. Just a work-related matter.â
He couldn't hide his skepticism. âYou look pretty nervous about it.â
Stella pushed back her chair and rose from the table, clutching her phone tightly in her hand. As she headed toward the living
room, Timothy felt a sense if unease.
Unable to contain his curiosity and slight amusement, he followed her into the living room. âStella, who are you talking to? And
why are you hiding it from me?â
Stella paused by the window, her back turned to him, her shoulders tense. âItâs really not a big deal, Timothy. Just a colleague.â
Just then, Timothy heard a voice coming from Stellaâs phone, and his eyes. narrowed as recognition set in. It was Andy, and
Timothy spotted his name on the screen. He couldnât make out the words, but his tone was urgent.
âWhy are you talking to Andy?â Timothy demanded, his anger simmering just below the surface.
Stella glanced at the phone, her eyes widening in surprise at being caught. âItâs just business, Timothy. Property-related stuff.â
The mention of property sent a jolt of anxiety through Timothy. Evie had mentioned something strange going on between Stella
and Andy, and now Stellaâs secretive phone call to his brother raised questions he couldnât ignore. âWhy are you talking to him
about it though?â
AIS
Stellaâs eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an escape. âI told you, itâs just business. You donât need to worry about
it.â
As she left the room, Timothy scoffed in disbelief. There was something strange going on between Stella and his brother, but
there were a variety of answers to consider. Her reason being that it was âjust businessâ didnât cut it, however.
She was a supermodel while Andy was a tech geek, for crying out loud. What business did they have together?
Timothy suddenly wasnât feeling so charitable as he took her plate and placed it in the sink. The look sheâd given Andy at the
cake shop was the same one that Timothy often gave Evie. It was a dreary, pained look that told of something deeper.
It was a look of longing.
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