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Summary
He’d been distracted. Not by Shane Hollander, exactly, but by the man at his side. Mrs. Hollander was as beautiful as he remembered, but the man to Shane Hollander’s side looked very ordinary. He looked from his wife to his son and back again, nodding along as the Montreal owner spoke, gesturing wildly with his hands. Shane Hollander looked about as excited as Ilya felt, but it wasn’t that.
It was such a quick moment. Such a throwaway that if Ilya hadn’t been staring, he never would have seen. But Shane Hollander looked up to this ordinary man for just a second, so fast, so insignificant, and the man’s face split into a smile that reached his eyes. His hand reached out and rubbed up and down Shane Hollander’s back. Mr. Hollander, Ilya decided, must be a very kind man indeed.
Or, Ilya Rozanov in the moments before, in between, and the promise of after.
Alternatively, Ilya's relationship with Russia, his brother, and what it means to leave it all behind.