Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player

EMILIA

I devoted ten years of my life to the only man I’ve ever loved, my ex-fiancé, Zane Whitmoore.

Since our eighth grade in middle school, I was always by his side. I shaped myself into the perfect woman for him.

I kept my black curls cut short, just the way he liked. I never wore makeup. I dressed in outfits he approved of because he didn’t like when other men looked at me.

For ten years, I did everything he wanted. I was going to be his wife. Everyone knew we were meant to be.

So it made no sense when, six months ago, he threw it all away.

“What did you say?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Zane stared at me across the restaurant table, his expression unreadable. I had made this reservation months ago for our ten-year anniversary.

“I think we should break up,” he said.

I blinked. My heart pounded in my chest. “Zane, is this supposed to be a joke? Because it’s not funny, babe.”

“I’m not joking, Emilia.”

“No, you have to be joking!” My voice rose slightly, and I glanced around. People were staring. I took a deep breath and reached for his hands across the table. My engagement ring still sat on my finger. I had never wanted to take it off. Not even now.

“We just started planning the wedding,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I know it’s stressful, but that’s why I’ve been doing most of the work.”

He didn’t respond.

“If it’s too much, we can push it back,” I added, even though the words felt like poison. We had already delayed it for years. But if that’s what it took to keep us together, I would do it in a heartbeat. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Zane exhaled sharply. “Then you don’t want me to marry you? Because that’s something I don’t want to do, Emilia.”

His words hit like a slap. My chest tightened. “You don’t mean that.”

“But I do.” His voice was firm. Cold. Nothing like the man I fell in love with. “I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t for years.”

I stopped breathing.

“I stayed because I know how much I owe you,” he admitted. “But I can’t put you over my happiness anymore.”

“Relationships go through tough times. We just have to work—”

Zane pulled his hand from mine and ran it through his hair. He had always been handsome. He had light brown hair, golden-brown eyes, and a smile that could make anyone melt. I knew I was lucky to have him.

I used to memorize the way people looked at him—envy, admiration—and feel proud that he was mine. I thought that meant I had won something.

He could have had any girl.

But he chose me.

That had to mean something. People don’t just throw ten years away.

But he wasn’t smiling at me now. He was scowling. He stood, dusting his hand on his thigh like my touch was something dirty.

“I don’t want to work on anything. Not with you.” His voice was flat. “It’s been ten years, Emmy. If we were meant to be, wouldn’t we have gotten married by now?”

The nickname stung. I stared down at my plate. “The only reason we’re not married yet is because you had to focus on your career—”

All the nights I waited up for him. All the dinners gone cold. All the times I told myself his absence meant ambition, not neglect.

“No.” His tone was sharp. “It’s because I never saw you as someone I could marry.”

The words hit like a punch to the stomach.

“You might be someone’s cup of tea, but not mine, Emilia. And besides, most NHL athletes don’t get married. But you wouldn’t understand that.”

I did understand. I didn’t want to go my whole life without being someone’s wife. But for him, I would have tried. I would have convinced myself it was enough.

“Don’t cause a scene, Zane. There might be reporters here.”

Even then, even in that moment, I was still protecting him.

He chuckled. “You’ve always been a pushover, haven’t you?” He leaned in slightly. “But I did love you when we were younger. Because of that, you can keep the engagement ring. I don’t want it back.”

The ring suddenly felt heavier, like it was weighing my hand down, branding me with something that no longer existed.

He turned to leave, then glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and we can’t live together anymore. You get that, right? I’m a free man now. I should be able to bring my hookups to my own fucking house.”

He smirked. “Leave the key in the flower pot.”

Then he walked away.

And just like that, he took my life with him.

***

It’s been six months since Zane left me.

At first, I didn’t take it well. That’s an understatement. I unraveled in ways I didn’t know were possible.

He kicked me out, and I had nowhere to go until Tessa, my best friend, booked me the first flight to NYC and forced me to stay with her.

I spent nights crashing on her couch, crying in the bathroom when she was at work.

I ignored the little bakery—Tessa and I named it The Whimsy Bakehouse after getting smashingly drunk one night in college and having what she called a crazy epiphany—Zane had opened for me after he got his first NHL paycheck for weeks. I couldn’t bring myself to step inside.

Then Tessa got fed up. She called me a couch potato, said I was wasting my tears on an ‘asshole jerk,’ and dragged me back to work.

So, it’s Friday, and I’m at the bakery. The regular season is about to start. I know because I memorized Zane’s schedule months ago. Back then, I planned my days around his, making sure we had time together.

Now, the only reason I keep up with hockey is Tessa. She’s been extra busy lately.

She’s a PR manager for the New York Titans. Zane’s favorite team. He had always dreamed of being drafted there, but ended up with the Chicago Blizzards instead.

I push the memory away and pull the second batch of cookies from the oven. Just as I set them down, the bell above the door jingles, making me smile.

The Becketts live across the street. They stop by every morning for cookies, and I always make sure to have something extra for them.

“Good morning, Miss Carter!” Angel, their little girl, grins up at me, two front teeth missing.

My heart melts. “Good morning, Angel. Mr. Beckett. Just the two of you today?”

Mr. Beckett nods, smiling. “My wife gave birth yesterday. We’re here to pick up some treats for her. She specifically asked for your doughnuts.”

Hearing the news, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!” I beamed. “I’ll grab the doughnuts right away. I also made some cupcakes! It’s almost like I knew something good was coming!”

I hand the treats to Mr. Beckett and smile, watching the two of them. Moments like these remind me that not all relationships fall apart. Some families actually stay happy.

But for some reason, none of my relationships ever last. No matter how much I give, it’s never enough.

I wave at the Becketts as they leave, their happiness lingering in the air like the scent of freshly baked cookies. I wanted what they had, a family that cared for each other.

But after what I did seven years ago, I knew I didn’t have a family to go back to. My parents haven’t called in months. My sister barely acknowledges my existence.

No matter how much I lost, I thought I’d always have Zane.

But I even failed at that.

My phone rings, and a quick glance at the screen tells me it’s Tess. The tight feeling in my chest eases the moment I hear her voice.

“You’re not on my couch, are you?” she asks, her tone is so skeptical that I burst out laughing.

“No, Tess. I’m at the bakery. I even made you some cookies.”

Right then, the bell above the door jingles, and in walks Tessa, holding up her phone with a triumphant grin. “Well, thank God for small mercies.”

Tess walks up, wraps her arms around me, and showers me with kisses, making me giggle. She’s always been so affectionate. It’s endearing.

Then I feel her slump against my back with a sigh. “You’ll never believe what happened.”