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Shane was not sure how he managed to get into his car or even how he hit the highway, because his insides were numb. He felt everything and nothing all at once. Yesterday had been Christmas, today was Boxing Day. He should’ve had a whole day and night with Ilya. Ilya, his rival, the man he loved, the man he’d been fucking for 11 years, the man who for the past 3.5 years had been his boyfriend. Instead, they’d had the most explosive fight of their relationship, with Ilya practically kicking Shane out of his house.
In hindsight Shane would realise this fight had been a long time coming. These past few months after the bliss of the summer, had been rough. Why was this year rougher than all the ones that had preceded it, Shane didn’t know. But he’d felt the shift in their relationship. Ilya had been snippier than usual, not wanting to joke around, not wanting to do anything as such except have sex with Shane and at max watch a movie.
Some of this had been Shane’s fault too he knew, his diet had become so strict and restrictive that they didn’t cook together anymore. When they first became a couple, it was one of their favourite domestic things to do. Buying groceries, chopping vegetables together, even doing fun naughty things while something cooked in the oven. It used to bring them both such joy to do that together.
Now, thinking about food itself gave Shane anxiety, he preferred to have his pre-cooked meals in Montreal, or low spice, cooked chicken breast when he was in Ottawa. Simple. Don’t think, don’t crave anything, just consume it as fuel. Because that’s what food had become - fuel, not something to be enjoyed, or tasted even. It was to keep him going as a hockey player, as the best hockey player, as the only half Asian hockey player, at the top of his game.
To top that, Ilya’s usual interests were the opposite of Shane’s. Driving around in fast cars wasn’t something Shane enjoyed. He’d been thrilled when Ilya had sold most of his fast cars for the Irina foundation. He’d retained two that were his favourites. At the time Shane had rolled his eyes at him, but thinking about it now, had he ever had Ilya take him around in any of his sports cars? He was always so paranoid about being spotted. When was the last time Ilya even took the cars by himself for a drive? Outside of that, Ilya enjoyed partying, drinking, again things that made Shane’s skin crawl.
Plus, the public nature of partying anyway meant it wasn’t an option for them. But funnily enough, lately Ilya’s interests had become more domestic in nature, like doing puzzles with Shane’s father, playing with their team dog, buying furniture for his house. And Shane hadn’t done any of this with him. If he could hate himself anymore in that instance, he would have. But his self-hatred was pretty much at its zenith at the time.
Trying to focus on the road and not on his horrible relationship issues, he decided to put on the radio, in hopes that it would distract him. The station announced they were playing old hits from the 2010’s. Jesus, the 2010’s was considered old now, he thought to himself.
A song came on that he’d never heard before, but then again music wasn’t something Shane had ever really known much about or even let himself enjoy. The list of things he did allow himself to enjoy seemed to only contain Ilya and hockey these days.
Right from the start
You were a thief, you stole my heart
And I, your willing victim
I let you see the parts of me, that weren't all that pretty
And with every touch you fixed them
Fuck! What was this song. It was reminding him of Ilya even more. He almost changed the station, because something inside him began to hurt again. But he was in the mood to punish himself, to feel the hurt he’d caused Ilya, caused himself, caused their relationship.
His thoughts drifted to when he and Ilya had met. Unknowingly, and despite his protests to his parents, Shane had really lost his heart when he had gone to meet the Russian hockey player. It hadn’t been easy, he’d scouted the entire building, not able to find the man in question anywhere, when he’d overheard someone say “Rozanov’s still smoking outside?” in a heavy accent. That’s when he decided this was his shot, he found him, struggling with his lighter. When he reached out to greet him, he’d been thunderstruck by the beautiful blue grey eyes that stared back at him quizzically. Shane had only seen tapes of Ilya with his hockey gear on till then, this was the first time he saw him face to face, and he was taken aback by how beautiful he looked.
His stunning features made Shane babble on, as he tended to do when he was nervous. And to make matters worse Ilya only looked at him cooly, looking ungodly good smoking, and giving short one worded replies. Thinking this was a lost cause, Shane had started walking away, when Ilya had finally said something in the form of a chirp. Shane never told him, but it had made his heart flip. And that was it, from that moment, his heart had belonged to the chirping Russian thief.
Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh oh
Things you never say to me, oh oh
Tell me that you've had enough
Of our love, our love
Ilya had not been sleeping well off late. Shane had been asking him about it for months. He saw the dark circles that had become an almost permanent fixture under his boyfriend’s eyes, the way he also seemed to be tired, irritable. The way Ilya’s messages came later and later when they were apart. He’d tried telling him to see a sleep doctor, or take even a mild sleeping pill.
That had been a disaster and a half. Ilya hated pills. After what happened with his mother, who could blame him. He’d blown up at Shane about pills, addiction and how pills could be a weapon. So, Shane had resolved to let it go. Ignoring the Russian murmurs, he heard from Ilya’s mouth sometimes, ignoring how he could tell almost every time Ilya slipped into bed late, at 2, 3 or even 4 am. Shane had always been a light sleeper, so he could make out when the bed shifted. Though he never let it on.
Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough
Just a second, we’re not broken, just bent and we can learn to love again
It’s in the stars, it’s been written in the scars on our hearts
We’re not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again
This song was officially making him cry horribly now. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. That was risky while driving. He spotted a rest stop up ahead, and pulled in there. Now, he could cry to a song like a child.
As he pondered over the lyrics, he thought, were they just bent though? Or had they pushed each other to the point that now they were broken. Their relationship had not been easy by any means, the secrecy, the hiding, the lack of privacy during the hockey season. It had been something they should have never done, right from the start. That had been many seasons and many kisses ago though.
In the initial couple years of being boyfriends, being able to even be with each other in secret had fuelled them. Where earlier they only had an hour or two with each other, they’d now have whole nights, sometimes an odd day here or there. It thrilled them both to no end.
But as the years went on, as other things took priority like the charity, Shane’s diet, Shane’s teams victories, Ilya’s teams losses, it had chipped away at the happy core. It’d been the one main thing that kept drawing Ilya and him to each other as magnets had been that they made each other happy. Even if no one understood it, even if it could potentially end their careers, they made each other feel things they simply didn’t with anyone else. They had avoided it until the point of breaking, tried it with other people, it just hadn’t worked. So that had become a core belief for being together against all odds.
But now, now did Shane make Ilya happy? Or was he just a reminder of everything Ilya had to give up to be with him? Was he just a nagging person who didn’t know how to do a single fun thing in his life? Who’d berate Ilya for having a Nutella bagel, even when Ilya was religious about his workout regime, who made Ilya give up his fast cars, his partying habits, his friends, his home country.
Shane was practically howling now, glad that he was alone in the stop by himself. God, how had he not seen this coming. He was the biggest overthinker he knew. Always having multiple scenarios planned out. How did he not see that Ilya had become so unhappy with him? A small voice in the back of his head said that wasn’t true, that having issues didn’t mean Ilya wasn’t happy with him. Shane didn’t feel like listening to that voice right then and there.
And did Ilya make Shane happy? Shane’s own father had asked if there were no nice men in Montreal. But that had never been an option for him. It wasn’t that Shane hadn’t tried finding someone else. He’d been with other men, women. Nobody made him feel the way Ilya did. Yes, right now he was annoyed at him, for not opening up, not sharing things, for not letting Shane in, even after all these years.
It was so ironic that they’d started a charity for mental health together, but Ilya was hiding things from him, just like he’d been hiding things from Ilya.
Like how bad things had gotten with his team, how his nutritionist’s other clients, other athletes reached out to him, to warn him that she had a tendency to be too rigid, how some of them had developed eating disorders by working with her.
But Shane hadn’t listened, because why? Because it had been working. He’d won a third cup, he was sure he was on track to win another this season too. So what if he felt cranky? So what if he never felt full anymore? So what if he couldn’t have a cookie at Christmas? Maybe it was time to stop saying so what so much, Shane pondered.
I’m sorry I don’t understand
Where all of this is coming from
I thought that we were fine (oh, we had everything)
Your head is running wild again
My dear we still have everythin’
And it’s all in your mind (yeah, but this is happenin’)
You’ve been havin’ real bad dreams, oh oh
You used to lie so close to me, oh oh
There’s nothing more than empty sheets between our love, our love
Oh, our love, our love (love)
This next paragraph killed Shane. He really hadn’t understood where their fight had come from. Why Ilya would insist on Shane going to his team’s gathering all of a sudden. How was he to explain to Ilya that camp was hard enough, being around him and trying to hide how much he loved Ilya was challenging enough.
But there, he had many things to do, duties to tend to, kids to look after, so he could distract himself. At Bood’s party, he’d have no distractions, how could he hide his “heart eyes” then? What would happen if someone on the team guessed? Like Troy Barrett, who much to Shane’s chagrin, Ilya had come out to. What if Barrett leaked it to the Guardians? Shane knew Barrett was supposedly a changed man, but wasn’t he right to have trust issues about that? When Barrett had hurled homophobic slurs at him just last season?
Shane tried explaining to Ilya, or so he thought, he wanted to tell him that they couldn’t come out before they retired. How could they? Who would understand their relationship? Shane’s best friend Hayden who knew about them, also still grappled with it. And Hayden was on their side. He still struggled to accept Ilya as Shane’s boyfriend. How could they expect the world to then? It’s not like Shane wanted to hide either. The nights apart, the secrecy, the constant set ups from JJ, it was all weighing him down too. It was, if Shane really admitted, one of the reasons he’d become so strict with his diet. It felt like the only thing he could control sometimes.
Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough
Just a second we’re not broken just bent and we can learn to love again
I never stop, you’re still written in the scars on my heart
You’re not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again
Oh, tear ducts and rust
I’ll fix it for us
We’re collecting dust, but our love’s enough
You’re holding it in
You’re pouring a drink
No, nothing is as bad as it seems
We’ll come clean
Shane wanted to believe their love was enough. That they could make it to the other side. To someday, where there was living together, dogs and kids. That someday they could walk down the street holding hands, without any fear of getting caught.
But clearly everything had been piling up for too long. In trying to not spoil their limited time together, Ilya and he had both been hiding so much from each other, sweeping things underneath the rug, that now it had all blown up in their faces.
Shane would love to fix it for them. If only he knew how to. He knew he loved Ilya, he wanted to be there for him, to show him he loved him. But this was not his strong suit, how do you show someone you love them? Shane had never been able to do his feelings justice, always buying fun gifts over romantic ones, trying to show his care by worrying about Ilya’s food, making plans, starting charities.
Making plans was his thing, but he hadn’t see the obvious flaws in his and Ilya’s “wait till retirement” plan. Or maybe at the time, he hadn’t wanted to.
Back then, in 2017, he and Ilya hadn’t even been a couple. Ilya was talking about playing for a Canadian team. But all the good Canadian teams were in the Western conference except Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto. Shane had panicked. Ilya was talking of marrying Svetlana, or moving to the other side of the country.
At the time he’d pitched it as sacrifice for future gain, but it’d made Shane’s blood curdle. The idea of seeing Ilya only twice during the season hadn’t sat right with him. So he’d blurted out the Ottawa plan. Not even giving himself 24 hours to think it through, or involving his parents. Because, he wanted to lock down Ilya with him. To make sure they could be together, be as close as possible.
Somewhere in prioritising their closeness, he’d not given weight to Ilya’s career, to his life he’d be leaving behind. Maybe he should have stayed in Boston only.
His mom, Rose, later on, they’d all warned him, keep a backup plan, be prepared for leaks, evaluate if this can be hidden for so long. He hadn’t listened because Ilya had so easily agreed to everything. What did it matter if it was hard, as long as it meant they could be together?
Just give me a reason, just a little bit's enough
Just a second, we're not broken, just bent and we can learn to love again
It's in the stars, it's been written in the scars on our hearts
That we're not broken just bent and we can learn to love again
Just give me a reason, just a little bit's enough
Just a second, we're not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again
It's in the stars, it's been written in the scars on our hearts
That we're not broken, just bent and we can learn to love again
Shane wanted to believe this was fixable. That this was not the end. That there was still hope. That they could learn to be open with each other, to share, to let each other see their ugly sides they didn’t show the world.
That Ilya would not leave him, that he would not let him leave. That he would, he could, show him how much he loved and appreciated him. How he did choose him. Fuck hockey, how he chose him over everything and everyone.
Oh, we can learn to love again
Oh, can learn to love again
Oh, that we’re not broken, just bent and we can learn to love again
The question though was how? He thought about proposing. Heck he’d wanted to, for at least a year now. They’d already had a sort of wedding with the Pike kids. That day, Shane had half a mind to go to a jewellery store immediately. But now? Proposing wouldn’t solve anything. Especially if it meant they still had to hide. If it meant they couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t celebrate openly, couldn’t even hug each other publicly.
Already with their charity, people had started making jokes, some awful teams passed comments, but that had all in a way been in jest because no one actually thought it was true. Shane didn’t know what to do, as he listened to the last lines of the song.
He made a note to find this song online later, because it was truly heartbreakingly beautiful. He kept sitting there, in a parking lot on the side of the highway between Ottawa and Montreal, unsure what to do, where to go.
He sat for a long time, until his tears dried up, until he’d finished scrolling all the photos Ilya posted on Instagram, which he realised, post 2017 were all about their relationship.
Ilya loved him so much, seeing the posts made Shane sort of understand that he loved him and that hiding that love was partly what was killing him. He thought to himself, would it be the worst thing if Ilya told his team? They could be out to them? Maybe they could be trusted?
Where Ottawa failed in terms of wins, it definitely succeeded in terms of camaraderie. Almost as an exact opposite of Montreal, he thought darkly.
Or perhaps they could even try living together, somewhere like Hawkesbury. It was a sleepy town in between Montreal and Ottawa. It would mean more driving for them both, but would it be the worst idea?
Multiple ideas flooded Shane’s head so rapidly, he wasn’t sure which seemed sensible and which were just out of desperation. But even if he wanted to figure it out, to call Ilya, to work it out with him, today was probably not the correct time. Ilya had very clearly asked him to leave, he needed space. Perhaps space would do them both good.
He reluctantly pulled back onto the highway, heading for Montreal. Hating not for the first time, that it wasn’t Ottawa.