Iced Heart Found Love Beneath The Waves

The text burned into my mind long after I dropped her phone back on the nightstand.

Can’t stop thinking about last week. When can I see you again?

Anderson. My rival.

The man who smiled for cameras while plotting to take me down every chance he got on the ice. And now he’d taken her, too.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor.

Water hissed from the shower. Steam curled from the bathroom door. She was in there, humming like she hadn’t just detonated my entire life.

Part of me wanted to storm in, confront her right then. But another part—a colder, more calculating part—held me still.

If I accused her, she’d deny it. She’d twist it, gaslight me, make me doubt what I’d seen. I needed proof I couldn’t ignore. Proof that would drown her excuses before she could even speak them.

The next day, I found it. She told me she was meeting Cara for lunch. She dressed carefully, hair curled, lips painted red. She kissed my cheek before leaving, soft and sweet.

“Don’t wait up. We might shop after.”

I nodded, biting down on the words in my throat. The second the elevator doors closed behind her, I grabbed my keys.

--

Following her felt dirty, like I’d already lost some part of myself. But the sick certainty in my gut told me I was right. I trailed her cab through the city, my grip on the wheel white-knuckled.

She didn’t go to the café where Cara always posted her latte art.

She didn’t go near the mall either.

Instead, her cab stopped in front of a sleek hotel near the river.

My pulse spiked. I parked down the block and watched from a distance.

Heiley stepped out, glancing around once before heading inside.

Minutes later, another cab pulled up. And out stepped Anderson. He wore sunglasses, hood pulled low, but I’d know his stride anywhere. The same confident arrogance he carried on the ice. He barely looked around before striding into the hotel like he owned it.

Something inside me snapped.

--

I was in the lobby before I even knew I’d moved. The desk clerk smiled at me, recognition flashing in her eyes.

“Mr. Hiltons—”

“Did a brunette woman just check in?” My voice was sharp, harsher than I meant.

The clerk faltered. “I—I can’t disclose—”

But I was already moving past her, toward the elevators.

My blood pounded in my ears. The ride up was a blur. When the doors opened, I stepped into a quiet hallway lined with identical doors.

I didn’t know which one was theirs, but then I heard it—her laugh. Soft, familiar, intimate. And his voice, low, answering. My body moved before my mind caught up. I strode down the hall, stopped at the door where the voices came from.

My fist hovered, trembling.

Then I heard the sound of a zipper. A gasp.

My vision tunneled. I slammed my hand against the door.

“Heiley!”

Silence.

Then scrambling, hurried whispers.

The lock clicked once, twice.

Then the door cracked open just enough for Heiley’s face to appear, eyes wide, hair tumbling around her flushed cheeks.

“Drake—what are you doing here?”

Behind her, Anderson’s voice: “Shit.”

My chest hollowed out. It was real. I hadn’t been paranoid.

I hadn’t imagined it. I shoved the door wide.

Anderson stood by the bed, shirt half undone, eyes flashing with annoyance instead of guilt.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Heiley blurted, stepping in front of me, hands on my chest.

“Don’t,” I growled. My voice was so raw it startled even me.

“Don’t insult me with that line.”

Anderson smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Guess the golden boy finally figured it out.”

Rage surged, hot and blinding. I lunged, fist connecting with his jaw before Heiley’s scream even registered.

Anderson staggered back, then swung at me. The two of us crashed into the nightstand, lamp shattering to the floor.

“Stop it!” Heiley shrieked, pulling at my arm.

“Drakel, stop!”

But I couldn’t. Years of rivalry, of biting back, of watching him gloat every time he scored—it all poured out now. Every punch was for the lies she’d told, the nights I thought she loved me, the future I thought we had.

Security burst in before I could finish what I started. They yanked us apart,

Anderson spitting blood, me breathing like a bull ready to charge again.

“You need to leave, sir,” one guard barked at me.

I wrenched free, pointing a shaking hand at Heiley.

“We’re done. Do you hear me? Done.”

Her face crumpled, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Drake, please—”

But I was already gone.

I don’t remember driving home. I don’t remember climbing into the penthouse, the city lights blurring outside.

All I remember is standing in our bedroom, staring at the ring box on the dresser. I opened it one last time. The diamond gleamed, beautiful, mocking. I hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and clattered to the floor, forgotten.

The press got hold of it within hours.

Photos leaked of me storming out of the hotel, face bruised, shirt torn.

Headlines screamed betrayal, scandal, broken engagement.

Sports commentators debated how it would affect my career.

Some said it would fuel me.

Others said it would destroy me.

But none of them knew what it felt like.

None of them knew how it felt to love someone so blindly, only to watch her slip into the arms of the one man you hated most.

--- That night, I sat alone on the balcony, staring out at the skyline.

My phone buzzed nonstop—Tyler, teammates, my coach, even sponsors. I ignored them all.

Finally, one message from Tyler cut through:

You need to get out of here, Drake. Before this kills you.

For once, I agreed.

I didn’t know where I’d go yet, but I knew one thing: the ice wasn’t enough anymore.

The rink, the trophies, the cheers—they couldn’t patch this hole in my chest.

I needed distance.

Silence.

Somewhere nobody cared about hockey, or about Drake Hiltons, MVP.

Somewhere I could breathe again.

--

As dawn broke, I made the call.

Booked the flight. Somewhere far, warm, and quiet.

The Philippines.

I didn’t know what I was running toward. Only what I was running from.

And in that uncertainty, for the first time in years,

I felt the faintest spark of freedom.