Page 112 of The Long Game
“No shit.”
“Oh, fuck you. Sorry I still want to win cups instead of smoking weed with my teammates between losses.”
The words hit Ilya like a crosscheck to the teeth. Shane truly didn’t understand anything. Not what Ilya had given up for him, certainly. Ilya could be in Boston right now, leading one of the top teams in the league to more Stanley Cups. He could be breaking more records, and winning more awards. Instead he’dchosento come to Ottawa, when he could have gone to almost any team in the league. He’d chosen a team that hadn’t made the playoffs in over a decade. He’d chosen it because it was Shane’shometown, and close to where Shane lived. He’d chosen it so he could build a life in Canada with the man he loved.
And Shane thought he had, what? Come to Ottawa so he wouldn’t have to work so hard? Ilya wanted to punch a wall.
“You wouldn’t even choose me, would you?” Ilya said. “If it is between me and hockey.”
“Of course I would,” Shane said, though not as confidently as Ilya would have liked.
Ilya studied his face, and saw Shane flinch. “Wouldyou?”
Shane tilted his chin up defiantly. “Wouldyouchooseme?”
Ilya let the question hang in the air, his whole body trembling with rage. He couldn’t believe Shane would even ask that, after everything.
Finally, quietly, Ilya said, “You should go.”
“What? No way. Fuck that. Answer the question.”
“No,” Ilya said firmly. “Go home, Shane. We can talk...later.”
Shane’s brow furrowed, and he seemed unsure about whether Ilya was serious, so Ilya made it clearer. “I don’t want to look at you right now. I don’t want to talk to you. Go home.”
Because Shane couldn’t leave anything alone, he asked again, “Would you choose me?”
Suddenly, Ilya had Shane backed against a wall. Ilya hadn’t realized he’d moved until he was looming over Shane, one hand planted firmly on his chest. Ilya pulled his hand away quickly and moved it to the wall. He would never hurt Shane, he was sure of that, but his own fury was scaring him at the moment. He’d never been this close to flying apart.
If Shane was scared at all, his face didn’t show it. He kept his sharp black eyes fixed on Ilya’s, refusing to back down from this fight.
Ilya didn’t want to fight. He was exhausted, and miserable, and his boyfriend was breaking his fucking heart.
Quietly, in a voice that couldn’t disguise his pain, he said, “I already chose you, Hollander.”
He stepped back, and watched Shane’s eyes widen. After a moment, Shane’s lips parted as if he had something to say, but Ilya didn’t want to hear it.
“Go home,” Ilya said. “Please.” Then he turned and walked quickly upstairs.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shane had no idea how he got back to Montreal. He couldn’t remember a minute of the drive, he’d been so consumed by a whirling storm of anger, shock, fear, and shame.
I already chose you, Hollander.
The words kept repeating in his head, continuing even as he made his way into his house, up the stairs, and finally collapsing on his bed.
He should have stayed. He should have stayed and fought for himself, or...
Fuck.
It would be ridiculous to say this was their first fight—their entire relationship seemed like one unending fight sometimes—but this was the first one that had left Shane feeling terrified. Obviously he had fucked something up. He hadn’t been paying attention to Ilya, or to what Ilya had given up for him, and he now realized that Ilya had given up a whole fucking lot for Shane. Forthem.
Of course he resented Shane. Ilya had left his home country, his family—even if only a brother he hated remained—his team, his friends in Boston, his entire fucking life, really. He’d changed everything.
Meanwhile Shane was comfortable in Montreal, playing with the same team he’d started with. Winning Stanley Cups. He had friends he could talk to about Ilya—a teammate even—and his parents lived nearby. He’d set his boyfriend up in his hometown, not far from Montreal, because that was convenient for him. Everyone he loved all in one tidy circle.
And in the summers they went to Shane’s cottage. God, their entire relationship was about Ilya fitting into Shane’s life as easily as possible.
