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Ottawa is a nice place. It is. Much more boring than Boston, but it's a nice city. Ilya’s probably imagined more than one thousand times how Shane’s childhood had been, and he can only smile thinking about them having their own family. Lots of dogs. Children. That is a nice thought. The only bad part is knowing he has to wait so fucking many years to have that.
He likes his team too. He’d never thought he’d found such a welcoming group, even if they were terrible. Actually, they were fucking terrible. Now they’re literally on fire. Ilya’s been aware of how good his players are for a long time, and as the team’s captain, this recent winning streak has been a shot of dopamine that feels extremely good. Especially if you’re depressed. He usually jokes about it with Galina.
He was quite reserved at first, but he has to admit they’ve kinda become his family. Not only his teammates, but most of the workers there were, in one way or another, included. Harris is the best example, but Ilya knows that, even if he liked that guy a lot, he’s not his favourite player. He is happy for Troy. Also a bit jealous. Because he can see his boyfriend every day. Even at work. And then, they can spend every single night together. Troy is not out yet, but Ilya knows he’ll probably be in a few months. Weeks, maybe. God, that’d be nice. Being out, being a normal couple.
Anyway, he’s not only thinking about his mates or Harris. Even the doctors are nice, especially Layla. She was the nicest. Probably the nicest among all the people he has known in Ottawa. She has beautiful golden hair and big brown eyes. Ilya often thinks she looks like a doe, but just if a doe had very strong hands. She’s half Spanish. And half Canadian too. But Ilya was sure her Spanish mum was responsible for Layla's fun personality. It was nice to have a friend like her. She is quite similar to Svetlana, and that’s something Ilya really enjoys.
—You can’t reject me this time, Rozanov.
That 's true. She had been organising team dinners all over the season, and Ilya hadn’t attended to any of them. He used to have a good excuse, a real one, but he knew they were not very credible for the general public.
—Ok, ok. You are right. I will go.
Her face was now lit up with a big smile.
—For God 's sake! I’ll prepare the best tortilla you’ve ever had.
—That’s not difficult. I’ve never had one.
—Well, I’m sure you’ll love it. I’m a great cook. You’re the only one on the team who hasn’t tasted my wonderful food.
Layla looked at Ilya with excitement, and he felt kinda…embarrased? He’d liked to taste it before, he’d really liked to, but at those nights he could only think about how much he had missed Shane, and at some point, his boyfriend’s lips were the most luxurious delight.
—Thank you, especially after all the time I said no. I promise I really wanted t…
—Don’t worry, Ilya. You don’t need to explain anything to me. But you’re my friend. And I really like to have dinner with my friends.
Friends. They were friends. That thought made Ilya smile.
—I appreciate it. I will bring the best Russian vodka as an apology.
One of Layla’s brows rose and her eyes looked naughty.
—If you’re trying to buy me with that, you must know it’s absolutely working.
***
It was 8 p.m. and Ilya was at his team’s doctor door.
—Hi! Come on, make yourself comfortable.
He followed her into the place. It was a beautiful penthouse. She lived with his husband, but Ilya recognised that girly essence around the entire house. It was very clean and nicely decorated, just like those on the magazines. He thought he maybe could ask her to help him with his own house.
—Wow, this is very beautiful. No doubt everyone liked to come.
Layla laughed briefly at that comment.
—Dude, you’re all millionaires. I don’t really think my house had surprised anyone.
—Maybe not the married ones, but believe me, single guys are not used to this.
Ilya sat on the couch in the living room while Layla served them both a glass of that vodka he had brought.
—Aren’t you?
She sat on the couch too but Ilya was too astonished to realise. It was not the first time in these—almost— four years that someone had asked if, directly or indirectly, he was with anyone. But he felt that was different. Layla looked at him as she already knew. Ilya was too quiet not to look suspicious.
—Gosh, Ilya! Chill out, man. I was joking, I know even if you had a partner your house would be a disaster.
Partner. She said ‘partner’. She didn’t say ‘girlfriend’ or ‘wife’. Layla didn’t assume Ilya was straight. Would Troy have said something to her? No, absolutely not. So, she just probably thought there was the possibility of Ilya being not straight.
—Yes…I mean, yes. That’s probably true.
He was still surprised at her question but he tried to change the subject as fast as he could.
—How’s Miguel doing?
Miguel was Layla’s husband. They met when Layla did an exchange year in Spain while she was studying at Med school. He was finishing college and he moved to Canada to be closer to her. He was not only a very loving husband, but one of the best orthopedic surgeons of the country. He worked at the children’s hospital the team often visited, so Ilya and him have met a couple of times.
—At his best. He’s now in a congress about new techniques in pediatric traumatologic surgeries, but he’ll be back at the end of the week. I don’t want to be very mushy, but I have to admit I already miss him.
Yeah, Ilya knew that feeling too. He’d like to say he was used to it, but that’d be the fucking biggest of the lies.
—That 's cool. You both make a very beautiful couple. It feels like you’re both perfect.
That was true. They actually were a wonderful couple.
—That’s so sweet of you, but, you know we’re not, right? Like, you’re much cooler than I am.
—I am cooler, not better.
Layla couldn’t help but smile.
—I actually wanted to ask you about your foundation. Very beautiful project by the way.
—What do you want to know?
Ilya grabbed his glass and swallowed a large sip of vodka.
—First of all, if you’ve ever needed doctors, don't hesitate to call us, but…Yeah, I suppose I just wanted to know how you and Hollander came to the conclusion that you wanted to set up a foundation together.
Ilya thought about that. He remembered how Shane had explained to him about that whole plan he had to be together. The Irina Foundation was not only a beautiful tribute to his mother, but also a nice way to be able to be together in public.
—Uhm, we have shared the spotlight for many years. You didn’t really think we hated each other, did you?
—No. No, I didn’t.
Layla looked at him with those dark eyes and that velvety voice and Ilya felt paralyzed. She moved to the kitchen to bring some very good looking dishes.
—Come on, try whatever you want. These are croquetas de cocido and pinchos de ensaladilla rusa. I’ve made these ones especially for you! I have the tortilla in the kitchen, I’ll bring it later.
Ilya didn’t lose time. He tried everything, partly because he knew he couldn’t talk about Shane and him with his mouth full of delicious Spanish food.
—They’re really great. Wow, thank you for inviting me.
—You are together, right?
Ilya looked at Layla with very serious eyes.
—What?
That question made him tremble.
—You and Hollander. You’re a couple, right?
Layla’s words felt like knives cutting his entire body. How the hell could she have noticed it? He started to think about all the moments they’d shared together since they met for the first time and he couldn’t remember to mention Shane any of those times. He was about to say something in response, but he realised he had been quiet for too long at that point. And silence usually says more than one thousand words.
—I haven’t talked with Miguel, and I don’t think you have to worry about the rest of the guys. They’re men, not smart enough to notice it.
She chuckled after saying that. Ilya was still in silence. At least, until he realised he might have said something.
—How did y…
—Sometimes the soul speaks through our body, Ilya. Even if we want to keep it quiet.
—I…uh…I h-have really tried to…Fuck, Shane is going to kill me!
He snorted almost in despair while he grabbed his own hair. Layla hugged him as tightly as she could.
—Hey, hey. It 's ok. I won’t tell anyone. I figured it out but, believe me, this is not public knowledge.
Ilya looked at her just like a puppy. His eyes were wet and her heart broke a bit.
—How long have you known it?
—I don’t know…Maybe a couple of months, but I think I kinda assumed it since we met.
That meant so fucking much for Ilya. He was on the edge of crying. He remembered at that moment how Svetlana told her she knew about “Jane”, back then at his father's funeral. It was almost funny how difficult it was for Ilya to keep his relationship with his boyfriend secret to his female friends.
—I have to admit it feels nice. Less pressure, you know?
—It must be so hard…
Ilya looked at her with sadness.
—Yes, it is. We are good now, but we argued about it some weeks ago. I feel I push Shane to expose ourselves more than we usually do because I’m drowning keeping this fucking secret.
And he is scared. Maybe too much. Sometimes, I just feel lost, you know?
Layla gently caressed his cheek.
—I bet you’re lost together, darling.