The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(76)

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.”

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.