My Billionaire Hockey Trainer

Seven years of my life I spent with this man. The only man I've ever loved, my ex-fiancé, Julian Hawthorne. Seven years of believing that the snickers from his friends and the unsure glances from mine meant nothing. In two months, it would be eight years since he first kissed me behind the bleachers in high school. That history felt like my whole identity. An identity that I never thought would end in one night. I stood beside Julian, my heart fluttering in my chest. I was convinced that this night would solidify my place in his world forever. My blonde hair, the exact shade he preferred, felt tight as the ponytail pulled against my scalp. I wore the subtle, neutral lipstick that, according to him, was the only shade that didn't make me look "slutty." Every choice I made had been made to please him. That was how much I loved this man. My father, whose retirement party buzzed with the low hum of champagne flutes and industry gossip, continued his announcement, "And my successor of the agency would be…." He looked directly at us and smiled. I smiled back, patting Julian on the chest encouragingly. Julian deserved this. I’d spent months convincing my dad. I wasn't fit for the role anyway, and the men at the agency would agree. I was so glad Dad was taking my suggestion and putting the company in Julian's hands, finally giving him the entryway back into the hockey world he'd been craving. Julian straightened up in anticipation. This was the moment for him. “My lovely daughter, Brianna Hale,” he finished. The blood drained from my face. The round of applause felt like an intrusion to my ears. I felt Julian stiffen beside me. The encouraging pat I’d just given him felt like a cruel joke. Bewildered, I looked from my father to Julian, trying to process the lie my ears had just fed me. Dad gestured in my direction, forcing me to paste on a wide, fake smile and climb the steps to join him on the podium. “Dad! What is this? This isn't what we agreed,” I hissed through a tight smile for the crowd. My eyes were trained on Julian below. His nostrils flared. His jaw was so tight I saw a muscle ticking in his temple. I watched as he downed the entire glass of champagne like a man swallowing an antidote. “We can talk about this later, sweet pea,” Dad whispered, still beaming as the applause died down. "There's no one who's more fit for the job than my daughter,” he said loudly. “And I am so proud of you.” He gave my shoulder a small squeeze. That simple statement must have set Julian off. In a split second, he let out a low, guttural roar, sounding more animal than man, and tipped over the cocktail table with a sickening crash. The sound of glass breaking silenced the entire ballroom. He pointed an angry, trembling finger directly at me, his face blotched red with a mixture of rage and alcohol. “How dare you?!” he spat out. I hurried down the podium and towards him, my new CEO title, long forgotten. “Baby, please. I can explain, it's not what it looks like. I promise, I did speak to –” Julian’s eyes were frantic, manic. He threw his champagne glass to the floor beside me. “You had just one job, you stupid b***h!” A collective gasp sounded through the room. I felt the heat of their stares, the weight of their judgment. “Julian!” my dad bellowed, horrified. I was trembling visibly as I took a step, careful not to step on a shard of glass. "Julian, I know you're upset. We can talk about this when we get home. I'll fix this. It's about the position right? I won't accept it." He let out a short, sardonic bark of a laugh. “I asked you for one thing. One. Thing. Brianna. Just one.” Tears stung my eyes. I hated fighting with Julian. It was my fault. I hadn't pushed hard enough. “Whatever life you have, it's because of me. I made you!” he yelled in my face, and I flinched, shrinking back instinctively. "I gave you everything you asked for. I even got you that cheap fake ass ring so you could shut up about us getting engaged.” His last statement stung, cutting even deeper than the name-calling. I cherished that ring, it was proof that we truly were forever. I tried to pull him away from the whispers and stares. “What are you saying, Julian? Let's talk privately, there are people here.” He tore his hand from mine. His eyes, usually a soft green, were glittering with cold malice. “Open your f*****g eyes, Brianna. I was using you. I have my own life. I have a beautiful woman who's probably waiting for me in her hotel room right now so I can f**k her brains out. I only needed you to get me this position so I could fling you away after I sign it.” His words hit me like a physical blow. The air rushed out of my lungs. "You don't mean that. Our eight-year anniversary is in two months. We're getting married soon," I whispered. He shook his head, an expression of sheer disgust on his face. “I've never seen you as someone I can marry.” I could feel all the oxygen leaving my lungs. “I will reject it! I'll make sure Dad gives it to you,” I pleaded, still fighting for the only life I had ever known. Julian shook his head, looking toward my dad. “There's no need. I'm calling it off, the engagement, relationship, whatever the f**k this is. I have no use for you any more.” The world blurred. Everything I had ever known was crumbling. I looked at the ring on my finger that suddenly burned into my skin. "f**k off Brianna!" Julian spat. "And you can keep the damn ring. It's worthless anyway," he said before stumbling off in a semi-drunk state, disappearing into the crowd. I didn't move. My father was by my side instantly, but I barely registered his presence. I looked down at the ring, the prison I'd worn for a year. A cold fury stronger than my sorrow, began to take form in my chest. With a yell, I ripped the engagement ring off my finger, the metal scraping my skin. It felt like tearing away eight years of a life-sized costume. I flung it, hard, into the same direction Julian had gone, watching it skid across the polished marble floor until it vanished beneath a velvet curtain. “Sweet pea, it's the right thing,” my dad said, pulling me into the hallway away from the shocked guests who were whispering amongst each other. I pushed away from him. “The right thing? You ruined my life! My fiancé just left me, and I’m a laughingstock! None of this would have happened if you had just done what I asked!” The angry words poured out, fueled by the end of my near decade long relationship. My dad’s face, which had been set in a disappointed glare, suddenly crumpled. “He clearly never cared about you, Brianna. He’s a snake, and I’m glad he’s gone.” “But why, Dad?” I choked out, a final, despairing sob escaping my throat. “Why didn’t you just give him the position? I begged you.” “I..” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long, painful breath. When he opened them, the anger was gone, replaced by a devastating, raw vulnerability. “I have cancer, Brianna. I have cancer and it’s rapidly progressing.”