The Hockey Star's Runaway Fake Girlfriend

Chapter 3

Word Count: 732 | Released on: Today at 18:36

Owens

he little orange cat I'd adopted from the shelter last week

orway. He wore a pair of gray sweat shorts, his upper body

heavy with sleep. But when his gaze fell on

either of us spoke first. The air was thick wit

e stopped eating, gave Christian a wary look, and

nally spoke, his voice raspy

hands, and answered calmly,

g two steps forward, looming over m

eeting his gaze. "I adopte

rominent in the morning light. It was a sneer I knew well, the one he used to dismiss

document was drafted by your lawyer. I just signed

. Signing that paper had felt

ng me to argue. He paused, his ex

ly. "But you're barel

n us like a slap. I saw the musc

g with emotions I couldn't decipher. T

id, his tone a command

firm. It was the first time I ha

llo meowed again, rubbing

from my face to the cat

ute. Finally, without another word, h

hen the ding of the microwave. He was probably he

omfort Apollo, but I could f

days, we were loc

the hallway without making eye contact. In the living room, he'd watch

never touched him, but sometimes I'd catch him sta

ngely quiet apartment. Christian wasn't there,

. I started searching the apartment,

heart began to sink. He wouldn't a

pair, I heard a faint "meo

or was always closed. I

conds, then walked over

espo

and turned the doorkn

. Christian was asleep on his bed. And Apollo, the cat he claimed to hate, was

Chapter End

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The Hockey Star's Runaway Fake Girlfriend

Lu Meng Modern

“I was the fake contract girlfriend of Christian Carlisle, Briar University's star hockey captain. On the night he returned to town, I foolishly made a perfect dinner and waited for him, only to find out he was busy drinking at a frat party. Worse, when his elite family summoned me, he publicly humiliated me at their dinner table, mocking me as a desperate stray who didn't belong in their world. When I finally snapped and told him I was done, he drove me out to a desolate, pitch-black highway and abandoned me by the side of the road with my suitcase. Days later, his mother's assistant called to coldly evict me from our apartment. Then came the email: a legal termination agreement offering me a fifty-thousand-dollar severance fee to shut up and disappear from his life forever. Meanwhile, the campus blogs were already celebrating his reunion with his wealthy childhood sweetheart, painting me as a pathetic gold-digger who finally got what she deserved. Fifty thousand dollars. That was the exact price they put on my dignity and two years of my youth. They really thought they could just buy my silence, crush my pride, and discard me like trash without a second thought. I didn't cry, and I didn't sign the papers. Instead, I picked up my phone and sent the untouchable hockey king one last text. "I saw the agreement. Before I sign anything, I want to see you one last time. You name the time and place."”