“Oh,” Shane said, unsure if that was good news or bad. “Like, a psychologist, you mean?”
“Yes. Not the team one. One who speaks Russian. Is good. She has been helpful, I think.”
“She speaks Russian? That’s great.”
“Yes. Much easier to talk that way.”
Not for the first time, Shane felt terrible about not learning Russian fast enough. “So, it’s been…good?”
“I think so. Slow, but good.”
“How long have you been going?”
“A couple of months.”
Jesus. Why hadn’t Ilya told him? Shane wanted to ask, but it would probably sound like an accusation. “I’m glad you’re getting help. If you need it. And that you found someone you can talk to.” He couldn’t disguise the hurt in his voice, even though he had no reason to feel hurt.
“Shane,” Ilya said gently, “I have told you things I have not told anyone. You know me. Therapy is…different.”
“I know,” Shane said. He did know. He was just mad at himself for not being a better listener.
“There is one thing I should tell you.” Ilya sounded nervous, suddenly. “She knows. About us. I told her.”
Shane couldn’t help the shock that he was sure showed plainly on his face. “You did? Like, you used my name?”
“Yes. I am sorry, but…I did not want to lie in that room the same as everywhere else.”
Shane supposed he could understand that. What good was seeing a therapist if you needed to lie to them? “Okay. I mean, she’s, like, sworn to secrecy or whatever. So that should be fine.”
“Yes.”
Shane sat on his bed. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want, but what made you decide to see a therapist?”
Ilya’s lips pulled into a tight smile. “Big question.”
“I know. Sorry. Forget I asked.”
“No. I want to tell you everything, but…not now, maybe.”
Shane nodded. “I get that.”
“It’s a lot, you know?”
Shane didn’t know, but he said, “Yeah. For sure.”
“But I am sorry I made you leave. I had a very nice Christmas with your family, as always. And I wasted a day and a night we could have been together.”
“I’m sorry for basically everything I said. Like, so fucking sorry. I love you.”
“I know, moya lyubov.”
Shane grinned. “I know that one.”
“Ah,” Ilya said in mock despair, “then you know my secret.”
“That you love me?”
“That I am very mushy inside.”
Shane laughed. “I knew that too.” He glanced at the clock beside his bed. “Shit. I have to go.”
“Okay.”
“I wish our schedules weren’t fucked. But maybe a bit of distance is good right now?”
“I think so. Yes. We will talk when we are in the same room again.”
They smiled sadly at each other for a few seconds. Shane’s heart felt heavy, and he was anxious thinking about their impending conversation, but he was more confident that things were still good between them.
“Try not to win too many games,” Ilya joked.
“You too.”
Ilya winked. “We never do.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
January
Ilya wasn’t able to keep his promise to Shane for very long. After losing a road game in Buffalo, and then two home games, the Centaurs won the first game of their southern road trip, an afternoon match against the much higher-ranked Carolina team.
“Fucking right!” Bood yelled as the team returned to the dressing room at the end of the game. “New year, new energy. We’re gonna be unstoppable, baby!”
Ilya hoped so. He really hoped so. He believed in this team, despite their long history of losing. He had great teammates and a great coach. He was playing on a line with Bood and Troy now, and they were really starting to click. It felt great to have a player on his right who could keep up with him. The team just needed a few wins to gain confidence. Maybe this would be the road trip that changed everything.
Troy seemed happy about it too. Or maybe he was mostly happy that Harris had traveled with the team for this southern road trip. It wasn’t something Harris did often, but Ilya was glad he was getting a working vacation to some warmer climates. The team was heading directly from the arena to the plane that would take them to Tampa Bay. They’d have the rest of the night and all of tomorrow off to enjoy the warm Florida weather.
Harris was shooting video of the celebration in the room while Troy grinned at him from his stall, completely moony-eyed. Ilya sat next to Troy. “Still haven’t told him?”
“Not going to either.”
Ilya scoffed. “This would be a good chance. Romantic day together in Tampa tomorrow, maybe?”
Troy’s cheeks darkened slightly. “As if.”
“Think about it.”
“No.”
Coach Wiebe entered the room, and everyone cheered.
“Huge win tonight, guys,” Wiebe said with a huge smile. “I’m proud of you. Barrett with two beautiful goals? Are you kidding me? Amazing stuff, Troy. And where are our all-stars? Wyatt, Roz? Massive saves tonight, Wyatt. Absolutely incredible. And a goal and two assists from our captain? Can’t ask for more than that. Love it.”
Ilya stood and waved, which made everyone laugh. He realized he was actually in a great mood for the first time in a long time.
“All right,” Coach said, and clapped his hands together once, “let’s go to Florida, folks!”
The room erupted in cheers.
The party continued all the way to the plane. Everyone was rowdy and laughing, and Ilya soaked it in like a sponge. He’d missed this feeling.
Ilya was sitting alone, across the aisle from Harris, who seemed to be hard at work on his laptop. Near the end of the flight, Troy moved to sit in the empty seat beside Harris. Ilya smiled to himself, and looked out the window to hide the wistfulness that had probably crept into his expression. If things worked out with Harris and Troy, Ilya couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be a little bit jealous. It would be amazing to have your boyfriend so close.
The plane dipped suddenly—some unexpected turbulence. Everyone laughed at Bood, who had been standing in the aisle and was now on the floor. Ilya hastily wiped at his shirt, where Coke had splashed from the can he was holding. Ugh. He shouldn’t have worn a white shirt.
He pulled out his phone and checked to see if there was any score yet in the game Shane was playing tonight. It had just started, so no. Nothing yet.
They hadn’t spoken much since their phone call over a week ago. Ilya missed him, but he also thought the space from each other was good. They would talk—really talk—when they saw each other again, but for now Ilya needed time to think about what actually needed to be said.
He loved him, he knew that. He wanted to make sure Shane never doubted it. He didn’t expect their impending conversation to be easy, but whatever was said, he needed Shane to know he loved him. That he was still willing to do whatever it took to be together. But he also needed Shane to know all of the reasons why Ilya had decided to see a psychologist. He needed the man he loved to know the worst about himself.