How To Ruin Your Ex's Wedding: Fake Date A Hockey Player

Harper's POV,

I should've known something was wrong the moment Joel ordered for me.

He never did that.

But tonight at Marcello's, he barely glanced at me before telling the waiter, "She'll have the salmon."

I wrapped my hands around my expensive wine glass and tried to ignore the knot forming in my stomach.

This was supposed to be romantic.

Our 10th year anniversary at the exact same corner booth where Joel had taken me on our first date, back when he was a cocky twenty-year-old junior hockey player who quoted poetry between face-offs… and I was a naive college freshman.

Joel had been checking his jacket pocket all week like he was carrying something precious, getting all nervous and distracted. Unusual of him.

The ring was coming tonight. I was pretty sure of it.

Why else would Joel be so secretive, especially this evening?

"You look beautiful tonight," Joel said, and something about his voice felt totally odd.

The words were right. But his tone was all wrong, soft and sad and apologetic, like he was sorry for something I hadn't figured out yet.

"Joel, what's going on?" I asked.

"Can we just enjoy dinner first?"

"What's going on babe? Tell me"

He finally looked up at me, and I saw it in his eyes before he even spoke. This wasn't a proposal dinner.

"I got offered a trade," he said carefully. "Vancouver wants me for their playoff push. It's a really good opportunity, Harper. A real shot at the Cup."

I drew in a steady breath. A trade. Okay… We'd survived trades before.

"Alright," I said. "So we move to Vancouver. We've done it before. I'll find a new job..."

"That's the thing." Joel's voice cracked.

"My agent thinks the optics are better if I'm single. The eligible bachelor narrative. It's more marketable, especially with a new team. And this trade, it's my chance to really build my brand."

The words weren't making sense at all.

"Wait," I said slowly. "Are you breaking up with me because your agent thinks it's good for your image?"

"It's not just about that..."

"You're dumping me for your BRAND?" My voice rose sharply, that the couple at the next table stopped talking to stare. I didn't care.

"Harper, please keep your voice down," Joel hissed.

"Keep my voice down? You're telling me that ten years of my life means less than your marketability and you want me to keep my voice down?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what ARE you saying? Because it sounds like you're choosing endorsement deals over me."

He looked hurt, like he was the victim. His eyes were getting wet, actual tears forming.

"You've sacrificed everything for my career," he said quietly. "It's not fair to you, Harper. You deserve someone who can put you first. And right now, with this opportunity, I need to focus entirely on hockey. No distractions."

Distractions.

That word knocked the air straight out of my lungs.

"Is that what I am to you?" My voice broke. "After ten whole years, I become a distraction?"

"That's not what I meant..."

"I moved four times for you, Joel." My whole body was trembling. "Boston, Charlotte, Providence, Seattle. Four times I packed up my entire life. Four times I started over. I did it because I loved you. Because I thought we were building something together."

"I never asked you to do that."

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO ASK!" The words exploded out of me. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at us now. "I did it because you gave me this bracelet and told me I was your anchor. Remember that?"

I grabbed my wrist and shook it at him, the gold bracelet catching the candlelight.

"Of course I remember…"

"I gave up my clinic for you. I had investors lined up in Charlotte. Real money, real backing. I had a space picked out, equipment ordered, a business plan. But then you got called up to Seattle and you needed me here, and I said yes. I walked away from everything because I thought we were a team."

"I never meant for you to give up your dreams."

"But I DID give them up!" I stood up, my chair scraping backward. "I gave up everything. My career, my plans, my whole life. And now you're sitting here telling me it was all worthless because your agent wants you to look single for the cameras?"

Joel was dead in shock with his mouth opened wide. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"I…I love you," he finally managed. "Harper, I do love you. I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"The right thing?" I laughed, sarcastically and broken. "The right thing would've been not wasting ten years of my life. The right thing would've been being honest about what I actually meant to you."

"You mean everything to me."

"Then WHY?" The question ripped out of me. "If I mean everything, why is it so easy for you to throw me away?"

"It's not easy, Harper. This is killing me… you got to believe—"

“It looks pretty easy from where I’m standing.” I grabbed my purse and pushed back from the table, my hands shaking as I tried to swallow the anger burning in my chest.

"Harper, wait," Joel stood up, reaching for me. "Please, at least let me drive you home."

"Don't," I said. "Don't follow me. Don't call me. And don't even bother texting me. Don't show up at my apartment with flowers either. Just leave me alone. I never want to see you again."

"Harper, please..."

I turned and walked away before he could finish.

The cold Seattle air hit me when I pushed through the doors. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock my phone, but I managed to pull up Maya's contact.

She answered on the first ring. "OMG, did he propose?”

"He broke up with me," I said.

She froze.

"I'm on my way," Maya said, her voice suddenly steel. "Don't move. Don't talk to him if he comes outside. I'll be there in ten minutes."

She hung up.

I stood on the sidewalk outside Marcello’s, watching couples stroll past hand in hand, laughing softly, probably enjoying their perfect little evenings.

A vibration from my phone broke the silence.

Joel: Please let me explain. This isn't how I wanted tonight to go. I'm sorry.

I deleted it.

Another buzz.

Joel: I do love you, Harper. I need you to know that. You have to believe me.

This time, I blocked his number. Son of a bitch!

Through the restaurant window, I could see Joel still sitting at our table, his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking.

And then I saw the waiter approach with something small in his hand, covered in dark velvet.

A ring box.

My heart stopped.

Joel had brought a ring tonight. He'd indeed planned to propose like he said. And then somewhere between the wine and the salmon, he'd changed his mind.

I turned away.

Maya's car screeched up to the curb eight minutes later. She leaned across and threw the door open, taking one look at my face before asking, "Ice cream or vodka?"

"Both," I said, climbing in.

"That's my girl."

As Maya pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Joel bursting out of the restaurant doors, still clutching that velvet box, calling my name.

I didn't look back.

Ten years of my life had just shattered across a white tablecloth, and I was done pretending any of it had mattered to him.

"So," Maya said after a few blocks of silence. "On a scale of 'key his car' to 'burn his jerseys,' how vindictive are we feeling tonight?"

I stared out the window at the Seattle skyline, at the city I'd moved to for Joel's career.

"Maya," I said quietly. "How do you destroy someone?"

She glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Whose life are we destroying?"

"Joel's."

Maya's smile turned absolutely feral.

"Oh, Harper," she said, already pulling out her phone. "I thought you'd never ask."