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"Why?"
That was the first thing Marlow said as Ilya picked up the phone.
"Hello to you too, Marly."
"Cut the shit, Roz. It's bad enough I had to hear about this from the fucking gossip mill. You owe us, owe me an explanation at least. Why are you abandoning your team, Captain?"
"For personal reasons. I have to do this. You wouldn't understand. It's a good thing for me. I'm… I'm sorry for not telling you. I was about to, but I just couldn’t find the right time."
"I think the time is pretty fucking good now. I'm coming over."
Ilya looked around the apartment. He was in the middle of packing up his life. He could use a night off.
"I will order pizza. I still have a six-pack of that beer you like. Or you could have vodka like a grown man."
"Not everyone can drink like a Russian, Roz. I will be there in an hour."
The pizza arrived in just under an hour, and Ilya was setting it down on the kitchen island, when the doorbell rang again.
"Hey, Cap!" Marlow walked in holding a six-pack of Cokes.
"Hey. Pizza is hot, help yourself."
Ilya closed the door and ran his fingers through his hair. He did not know what to expect or what to say. Marly was his best friend, and he knew it looked like he was abandoning him.
As he stepped into his kitchen, Cliff already had a mouthful of pizza, eating it right from the box.
Ilya pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge and two shot glasses, filling one to the brim and throwing it back in one go.
"That bad, huh?" Cliff asked with his mouth full. "Come on, Cap, talk to me." He said after swallowing. "What's going on? Fucking Ottawa? Really? What is happening?"
Ilya took a slice of pizza. "It's good move for me. I don't want to have Russian passport. American passport is not the best either. Canadian would be good. But I have to go to Canada and play there for it. It's a way to get citizenship faster. I don't want to have to go back to Russia if something happens and I can't play hockey. This way is safe."
Cliff gave him a long look. "It has nothing to do with your Montreal girl, then? Jane, right?"
Ilya's hand froze mid-air. He didn't want to lie to his best friend anymore. He couldn't tell him the truth, not yet anyway, but he could share some half-truths. It was a start.
"Ottawa is closer than Boston. It's still a 2-hour drive, but I have many fast cars."
Cliff shoved him in the shoulder, beaming at him proudly. "I knew you two were serious. I never believed a word you said. You were blushing at your phone for years, Rozy. I'm so happy for you, man. Never thought I would live to see the day, the greatest Slavic fuckboy locking in."
"Shut your face, Marly," Ilya grinned at him, shoving him back so hard that Cliff almost toppled from his stool.
"The old ball and chain got you, too, brother. When can I meet her? She must be some chick to lock you down. Wait, do the other WAGs know about her?? If I find out Christie has known her all this time and didn't tell me, I…"
"Stop spiraling, Marly. No, the other WAGs don't know her. It's kinda new."
"New my ass, Roz. You two have been hooking up since I've known you."
Ilya poured another shot of vodka to win some time and keep his hands busy.
"It's complicated. It was casual for long time, it's only official recently." He said with air quotes.
"Well, she must be something if you are moving to Canada for her. I guess it makes sense, you couldn't go to Montreal," Cliff said with a grin. "I bet Hollander would have had some words about that."
Ilya made a face, schooling his features into something that wouldn't give him away immediately. "Obviously."
"So? When can I meet her? We could do a double date with Christie. I'm sure she is just as curious about the mystery woman who managed to lock down Ilya Rozanov as I am."
Ilya was dreading this question from the beginning. There was no reason Ilya could think of to rationalize keeping his relationship secret anymore. Apart from the obvious. Which he couldn't tell Cliff. Fuck, this was something he couldn't see his way out of.
Unless…. he could continue to work with half-truths.
He took another shot, which resulted in Cliff's hand on his arm. "Hey, slow down. What's up, Roz?"
"It's complicated. Jane has high-profile work, and publicity would not be good. That's why we keep it under wraps."
"Yeah, I get that, but you know you can trust us. Come on, you are my best friend, I want to meet the girl you've been hiding for years."
Ilya took another shot for good measure. Maybe he should have eaten some more, because Russian and all, he started to feel it. "Even if… even if she is not? Not a she?"
He looked up at Cliff expectantly, narrowing his eyes, waiting for his reaction. Ilya was leaving already, so if Cliff didn't want to see him again, it wouldn't be that bad, he rationalized in his half-drunken brain.
It took a couple of seconds for it to register in Cliff's brain, and when it did, his eyes grew comically large. "Holy shit."
"Surprise. I'm bi." Ilya was about to reach for the vodka bottle again, but Cliff grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Jesus fucking christ, Roz. You are the last fucking person I would expect this of. Fucking hell."
Ilya tensed, his jaw clicking as he pulled his hand away. "If it's going to be a problem, you can leave now."
Cliff shook his head as if he were coming up from under the water. "Shit, sorry, of course not. It's not a problem, man. I was just shocked. I mean, thinking about the things we used to do. I never would have thought, not in a million years."
"People assume. I don't correct them. It's none of their business."
"Yeah, sure, totally, I get you, man. God, now I think I might need something stronger to drink."
Ilya didn't need to be told twice; he was already pouring out the shots.
"Na zdorovje!"
Ilya really needed to eat something, so he picked up another slice of pizza.
"That explains the secrecy," Cliff nodded. "Thanks for telling me, man, it means a lot. So when can I meet him? Oh, and what's his name? I guess Jane was a fake name after all. Very smart, though."
Ilya thought back to those early days, when they were young and had no idea about everything. How Shane had given his phone over so eagerly, and how he came up with their names. It seemed a lifetime ago.
"Oh man, you are seriously smitten. So Montreal Jane is not Jane after all."
"No. But I can't tell you his name right now. He is not out either. It's not my secret to tell."
"So you said he has a high-profile job. Oh, my god, is he a politician?"
"This is not guessing game, Marly. I will talk to him, and if he is okay with it, I will tell you."
"Right, okay, get it. I will stop being nosy. It's still a lot to process. And you two were doing this in secret for how long?"
"Since the summer before ou… before my rookie season."
"Jesus fucking Christ! That's longer than I have known you. I can't imagine keeping something like that a secret for so long. Man, that sucks."
Ilya shrugged. "It is what it is. I'm not ready to come out yet, but maybe when I no longer have Russian passport. We will see."
"Oh fuck, I didn't even think about that. You can never go home if this gets out. Geez, that's awful."
"It's not home anymore. I have nothing there. The only thing I will miss is visiting my mother's grave, but…" he shrugged again. "It is what it is. She is here with me, anyway." His hand went to his orthodox cross.
"Is he worth it?" Cliff asked after a while, not unkindly.
"He is worth everything."