Page 116 of The Long Game
“No. I...haven’t talked to him much about my feelings still. I still have not told him that I’m seeing you.” Ilya’s eyes began to burn with tears. “I don’t know when I’ll see him again. Not for a week at least. We both have busy schedules, and road trips.” He swallowed. “I’m scared. I think I’ve ruined everything. I shouldn’t have mentioned that party.”
“I think you need to talk to him. Really talk. I’ll bet you’ve been keeping important things from each other because you don’t want to ruin the precious time you have alone together.”
Ilya nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
She smiled. “You might have to suffer through a tough conversation. I suspect you’ll both feel better on the other side of it.”
Ilya knew she was right, but he couldn’t imagine how to start the conversation with Shane. At the same time he felt a strong urge to leave the appointment and call him right away.
“What do you want to say to him?” Galina asked. “If you could say anything.”
Ilya considered her question for a long time, scrolling through the long list in his head of things he should probably discuss with Shane.
His lips curved up on one side. “Are you going to pretend to be Shane?”
She smiled back. “Not exactly.”
“Good. You’d have to be much more annoying.”
“I doubt that’s what you want to tell him.”
“No. I tell him that he’s annoying all the time.”
Galina waited patiently for Ilya to get serious. Finally, Ilya took a slow breath, in and out, closed his eyes, and started talking.
Shane was about to head to the arena for his game against Toronto when Ilya finally called him.
“Oh my god. Hi.” Shane didn’t even pretend to be chill. “Ilya, listen, I—”
“Is okay,” Ilya said. “I should have let you stay. We need to talk, I think.”
Shane sighed with relief. “Definitely. Can we FaceTime? I want to see you.”
“Yes.”
A FaceTime request popped up and Shane clicked on it, realizing only after the video feed opened that he probably looked like shit. He’d barely slept, he was wearing his glasses, and his hair was in a very hastily made bun.
But he stopped caring about any of that once Ilya’s face filled his screen. He looked so tired but so soft at the same time, his lips curved just slightly upwards on one side. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink, like he’d just come in from the cold.
“Ilya,” Shane said, because he couldn’t think of any other words.
“I’m sorry I asked you to go to the party,” Ilya said. “And that I was mad that you said no. It was...not reasonable.”
“No. It’s fine. I mean, yes, I was surprised and confused, but I was such an asshole to you. You’ve given up so much and I don’t appreciate it enough. I get that.”
“I would give up more,” Ilya said simply. “Anything for you.”
“I don’t want you to. God, are you okay? I know you hate talking about your feelings, but I’m worried.”
Ilya’s jaw worked for a moment, as if he was trying to decide what to say. Then he said, “I have been seeing a therapist.”
“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.”
