Fake Dating My Ex’s Favourite Hockey Player
Chapter 132
EMILIA
“Have you seen this before?” I breathe, my eyes glued to the mural on the wall. We were just walking to the convenience store to grab some of Céline’s essentials, but then this caught my eye a huge swirl of colours, like a painting from a dream.
–
The mural stretches across the hallway, all soft pastels and golden light. It’s full of pictures – painted versions of Zane and Becca, laughing, dancing, holding hands, kissing. It’s romantic in a way that makes your chest ache a little.
Would be better if the groom didn’t have more than a few screws loose.
“Wow,” I whisper. “The cruise really was made just for them.”
Céline glances over, smiling a little like she’s not surprised. “Yeah. I was actually there when Becca and Margot planned the whole thing. They got the mural commissioned months
ago.”
“Wait–months?” My eyebrows lift. “They were planning this cruise that far back?”
She nods, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “Becca’s a planner. And Margot’s got crazy
connections.”
I nod slowly, still staring at the mural, but something about her words doesn’t sit right with me. My fingers reach out, brushing against the painted wall – only to jerk back instantly.
Cold!
-f
I glance sideways at her. “Are you and Becca close?”
She hesitates just a little, then shrugs. “Kind of. We met through Lacey, but Becca and I ended up getting along. Funny thing is, Lacey and Becca hate each other.”
I mull over her words. I would have thought she didn’t like Becca as well. She acted like it, but I guess everything isn’t black and white.
grin.
“Seriously? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Sarcasm drips from my words and I can’t help but
Céline sighs. “Yeah. I keep hoping one day they’ll both grow up and hug it out or something. But knowing them, the chances are slim to none.”
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“I get that,” I say, a soft smile forming, I’m still examining the pictures closely. They really are perfect for eachother. They look so good together, too. “My sister and I never really got along either. My brother used to be the peacekeeper. He just wanted us to get along, but half the time, we were fighting over him.”
I chuckle quietly, but the sound fades as an unfamiliar wave of sadness hits me. That horrible pain tightens in my chest at the thought of Luther, who’s gone.
And Diana, who I lost.
The ache presses against my chest, and this time, unlike all the times before, I don’t push it away. I let it settle.
- me.
I deserve to feel the pain, the same way Luther deserves to be mourned.
And everything that went wrong with Diana deserves to be regretted.
Beside me, Céline suddenly goes still. I glance at her, confused for a second–then it hits
Of course.
She must’ve seen those articles too.
The ones about me. About my family.
Her voice is quiet at first, almost like she’s talking to herself. “So it’s true? I never thought I’d meet an actual Vanderbilt. That must be… nice.”
Something about the way she says it makes my stomach twist. I shift uncomfortably and give her arm a gentle tug, guiding us away from the mural,
“Unfortunately, I’m not really a Vanderbilt anymore,” I say with a weak laugh, trying to make it a joke.
But then she says, “Still Vanderbilt enough to get an inheritance, right?”
I freeze.
The air around us shifts.
I turn slowly, confused, and maybe a little nervous. “What?”
She’s staring at me with this look I’ve never seen on her before cold, distant. It sends a
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chill down my spine.
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