ICEBREAKER: DARK RUNION OF FIRE

8. COPING WITHOUT FANNY

Fred POV

I sat down carefully, ignoring the pain in my chest. “Good morning to you too, Dad.”

One of the legal advisers adjusted his glasses nervously. “Sir, the media is already circulating rumors involving...”

“Bury the rumors,” I cut the man off coldly.

My father’s expression darkened instantly. “Do you think this is a joke?”

“No,” I answered quietly. “I think it’s manageable, and there’s no point pursuing the case.”

The room fell silent briefly. Finally, I leaned back slightly before speaking again. “I no longer want public resources wasted searching for Fanny Rose. If authorities continue searching independently, that becomes their concern, not mine.”

One of the advisers looked visibly relieved, but my father looked suspicious instead.

“You’re giving up too easily.”

Maybe he knew me too well.

Because despite officially ending the search, my mind still constantly wandered back to her. Whether she had money left, whether she regretted stabbing me, whether she hated me enough never to come back.

Losing Fanny should have brought me peace. Instead, it felt like somebody had ripped stability completely out of my life. Nobody noticed immediately because, from the outside, my life still looked perfect. I was still Fred Lawson, captain of the city’s most celebrated hockey team, son of the mayor, future heir to the Lawson empire. Cameras still followed me, and women still smiled too easily around me.

But privately, everything felt exhausting. The first few weeks after ending the search for Fanny were unbearable. Every time my phone rang unexpectedly, some stupid part of me expected it to be her; unfortunately, life refused to pause simply because I was mentally unstable.

That was how Bianca entered the picture, the woman I ended things with Fanny for.

“She’s perfect for you,” my mother insisted during one of her charity events. “Beautiful, well-connected, intelligent, and most importantly, stable.”

Stability. That should have comforted me. Instead, the word bored me immediately; I liked the drama that came with being around Fanny.

Bianca arrived wearing black silk and enough confidence to make most men nervous. “You’re less arrogant and handsome today, my love,” she commented while sipping wine elegantly.

I smirked faintly. “Give it time.”

She laughed softly afterward. “See? That right there. That’s why women like you.”

The relationship became official two weeks later. From the outside, we looked perfect together. Bianca understood publicity, knew how to speak around politicians, and never embarrassed me publicly. My family approved of her.

Unfortunately, relationships become exhausting when one person is pretending. “You barely listen whenever I talk,” Bianca complained one evening while fixing her earrings inside my penthouse.

I glanced up briefly from my phone. “I heard you.”

“No, you didn’t.” She turned toward me slowly. “You keep disappearing mentally during conversations.”

“You’re being dramatic,” I finally replied, already irritated.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re still thinking about her.”

I looked at her properly then. “Excuse me?”

“Fanny,” she replied flatly. “You think I can’t tell?”

I stood quietly before grabbing my jacket from the couch. “You’re imagining problems.”

“No,” Bianca snapped angrily. “I’m dating a man who looks emotionally dead half the time.”

That argument lasted almost two hours, and so did our little arrangement.

The relationship lasted four months. My hockey career began collapsing quietly during that same period. At first, it was small mistakes: Missed turns, slower reactions, careless penalties during matches. Then sponsors started requesting private meetings with management while sports analysts began questioning whether I was losing focus.

One evening after a terrible game, I fought with my teammate out of frustration, and Coach Reynolds cornered me inside the locker room afterward.

“What the hell is happening to you lately?” he demanded furiously.

I removed my gloves aggressively. “Nothing.”

“You call this nothing?” He pointed toward the rink angrily. “You nearly cost us the match tonight.”

I laughed bitterly under my breath. “Relax. We still won.”

“That’s not the point.” Unfortunately, everybody suddenly had a point these days. The media, my father, my coaches, and sponsors. Everybody kept watching me like they were waiting for me to fail publicly.

“You’re distracted,” Coach Reynolds continued carefully. “If something is going on mentally, handle it before championships start.”

“I said I’m fine!” I snapped before storming out of the locker room.

No matter how much I tried distracting myself, my mind always wandered back to Fanny eventually. I missed her voice, her recklessness, and the way she argued without caring who I was. Even the chaos around her felt more alive than the fake perfection surrounding me now.

Bianca noticed my growing distance too: That night, she finally exploded. “You know what?” she snapped while throwing her purse onto the couch. “I’m tired of competing with a ghost.”

I looked up from the kitchen counter calmly. “Nobody asked you to compete.”

Her expression darkened instantly. “You’re unbelievable.”

That accusation would have offended me months ago. Now, it just sounded tiring. “I provide for you, put your name out there, and stick with you despite my godlike status. What else do you want from me?” I replied dismissively.

The cheating scandal exploded three weeks later.

At first, I only noticed suspicious withdrawals from one of my private accounts. Then confidential financial documents disappeared from my office. By the time investigators tracked the activity properly, Bianca was already gone, alongside her secret boyfriend.

Luke laughed for nearly five straight minutes after hearing the full story.

“This isn’t funny,” I muttered coldly while nursing a drink.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replied shamelessly. “You got robbed by your rebound girlfriend.”

I glared at him. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“You’re emotionally constipated, Fred,” he sighed dramatically.

That nearly made me throw the glass at him. Luke leaned back afterward before studying me carefully. “You know Bianca was never really the problem, right?”

I already knew where this conversation was heading and hated it instantly.

“You’re still obsessed with Fanny,” he continued calmly. “Every woman after her was doomed from the start.”

I rubbed my face tiredly. “Can we not discuss my psychological issues tonight?”

“You have psychological issues?” Luke asked sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

Luke laughed again before his expression softened slightly. “Fred... whatever existed between you and Fanny clearly wasn’t healthy. But pretending she meant nothing is destroying you slowly.”

He was right again; even hockey stopped feeling enjoyable anymore.

…………

Regional competitions were fast approaching, and I slammed my hockey stick against the locker room wall after another terrible match. The room became silent immediately.

Coach Reynolds stared at me carefully. “Get yourself together.”

I shoved past him angrily. “I said I’m fine.”

Later that same night, my father arrived at my penthouse already looking disgusted. “You are embarrassing this family,” he declared coldly the moment he entered.

I poured myself another drink calmly. “Good evening to you too.”

“This attitude is exactly why your life keeps collapsing.”

I laughed quietly before taking a sip. “My life is fine.”

“No,” he corrected sharply. “You are becoming weak over a woman.”

He stared at me carefully afterward. “A man who becomes addicted to the past loses both his present and future.”

That evening, I drove alone to Bayside Lodge outside town, trying to clear my head before championships began.

I sat there staring blankly at the waterfall, watching the slow movement of cars, when I noticed someone being attacked, A knife pressed against her throat, No... I was not mistaken. My eyes were not deceiving me. It was Fanny.

The city lights reflected against the river while I leaned against my car, staring at the traffic crossing the bridge ahead of me. This place was the only damn place that still calmed my head whenever memories of her started clawing at me again.

first I pushed the thought aside, it couldn't be her, Then I heard the scream, her voice was too familiar.

“Shut the f**k up and hand it over!” the robbers barked from the alley close to the riverside railings.

I frowned and stepped forward, my eyes narrowing toward the struggle, stepping closer, I noticed she was trapped between three men. One held a knife against her neck while the others searched through her bag.

My chest tightened violently, no f*****g way.

“Fanny Rose?” I muttered under my breath.

Before my brain could catch up, my body moved. I grabbed the first bastard by the collar and slammed my fist straight into his jaw.

“Who the hell—”

I kneed him hard in the stomach before twisting his wrist until the knife clattered to the ground.

The other two rushed me.

“Dumb f***s,” I growled.

One punch, One elbow strike, One brutal kick to the ribs, and all three stumbled away cursing before finally running off.

Breathing hard, I turned around slowly. Her bruised eyes met mine.

“Fred…” she whispered shakily.

“Why the hell did you come back?” I asked coldly.

Her lips trembled. but she had sarcasm in her eyes “because I need you.”

I laughed bitterly. “You know you’re in trouble, right?”