Archive of Our Own

November, 2001

It was a bad day for 10 year old Shane Hollander.

They’d run out of his favourite cereal, his favourite bowl wasn’t clean, his classrooms were noisy. His new sweater was too small in the collar, it pinched and pulled, distracting him. He always hated lunch; he never knew where to sit, who to talk to, when to laugh. It was a wet, cold day outside, so he couldn’t go find a quiet spot to eat. He’d eaten his meal by himself in the corridor by the music room. The music teacher had shot him a questioning look before deciding to leave him in peace. He was grateful she had, but it’d made him feel funny, tight around his collar. His sandwich, the same one he had every day, hadn’t tasted right afterwards.

At practice after school, he hadn’t been at his best. It’d made him feel bone-tired and weak, putting all the effort in and getting none of the usual results. The frustration of each missed shot or failed pass built in his throat, a pressure behind his eyes.  He knew he could be better, he was better. His coach had not looked pleased. 

Shane was glad it was his Dad and not his Mom who picked him up. His Mom would have grilled him on it, given him notes on his technique. Instead, His Dad said “you okay?” and Shane nodded, eyes on the ground, and that had been it. David told him he’d had to park a few minutes away, the limited space by the rink already taken.

They walked to the car in silence. 

In the years after, Shane thought of it as the best bad day of his life.

His eyes had stayed down, pinned to the sidewalk. If he’d been happier, they wouldn’t have. If he’d been happier, he would have practiced longer, talked to his team mates. It never would have happened.

Shane had spotted the odd looking cardboard box and frowned. Everything else around them was wet, drenched by rain, but this box was dry. Tucked under a tree, it would have been easy to miss it. A corner of a soft blanket peaked out of the edge of the box. It kept his attention as they walked by.

David said, “we can have hot chocolate when we get home, if you want?”

Shane nodded, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off the box. He could see their car and they were about to walk past the tree, the box. Shane would have never thought about it again. He would have gone home, gotten dry, and enjoyed an evening of tormenting himself. He’d be better tomorrow, he had to be. 

That’s when he heard it. A small sound, a rustling one. He could have sworn the blanket moved. 

He didn’t listen to what his dad said when he walked off the sidewalk, turned back on himself, and approached the box. He didn’t listen either when his dad told him not to touch it; Shane peeled open the flaps. He’d gasped and his Dad had run over. “What?”

Shane reached in and, with only one of his little hands, plucked the lone kitten into his grip. The kitten was so small, and so very cold, Shane remembers how cold to this day. It shivered against his palm. Shane shushed it, using his other hand to stroke behind its ears. 

David was outraged and swore in front of his son. It'd made Shane jump, it was so unlike his father. David searched around for the kitten’s abandoner.. 

Shane held the kitten to his chest, next to his sweater, and felt its little heartbeat in his palm. Shane thought, if it wasn’t so dirty, it’d be white and orange. Covered in fleas, a large belly, a tail with a sharp point, all the kitten did was shiver and mew against Shane’s shirt.

When it opened its eyes, they were large, round, and yellow. Shane knew he was smitten.

***

The vet said she was lucky. If Shane hadn’t found her, she would have frozen at night. Although chilly, underfed, and unclean, the kitten was healthy. The vet guessed she was about 4 weeks old.

“Why would somebody do that?” Shane had asked, his throat thick with the words. Behind him, and out of Shane’s sight, his parents had shot each other a pained look. Their son didn’t need another reason to be distrusting. 

Shane remembers the vet, they saw her for a few more years until she'd moved to Toronto. With long curly hair and red lipstick, she'd seemed warm. Shane liked her, and he didn't always like people. The vet said, “sometimes, people can’t give what they need, and they don’t know what to do. They might not have been able to buy food for her. Honestly, Shane, right?" Shane nodded. The vet leaned down, warm brown eyes, like his own, meeting his stare. "Sometimes, people just aren’t kind. I can’t tell you what it was or how she got there. You knew what to do though,” and the vet had smiled at him. Shane had actually smiled back. “You found her, kept her warm, and you all brought her here., You were her hero today. Well done.”

Shane had beamed, actually beamed. He remembers how his cheeks hurt. He remembers reaching out to where the freshly-washed and freshly-fed kitten stood. She was a little wet around the ears. Her yellow eyes were wide, confused, scared.

Shane never asked for much outside of hockey. He’d turned to his parents, his father looked back, his mother looked at his father. They seemed tense. Shane had known that. 

He’d asked them if they could keep her. They’d looked at each other. Yuna swallowed. “Shane, we’re very busy people.”

Shane’s heart squeezed. He understood though, that pets took time, and his parents both worked. He understood he had hockey. He swallowed too, and tried to keep his tears from falling. 

The vet had opened her mouth to speak, when David interrupted, “why don’t we try a week?” David looked at Yuna, the vet, and Shane in turn. “Give her a bit of time to recover?” 

Shane knew his parents well enough to know what this actually meant: give it a week so your mom can get used to the idea. 

He’d jumped up and down on the spot. He’d reached out and petted the kitten again. He reached over the table and pressed a little kiss to that large belly. The kitten mewed. Shane giggled. 

Yuna shot David a look that could kill, but it only took a day for her to be glad he’d intervened. 

They took the kitten home. 

***

That night, Shane snuck downstairs after his parents fell asleep. The whole house was dark blue, the moon poured in through the windows. Shane entered the living room as silently as he could. He didn’t want to wake her, he just wanted to see her. He wanted to know she wasn't cold anymore. 

He needn’t have bothered caring about his noise, she was already awake. From a little basket of blankets, she stared at him as he stepped through the doorway. Her bright yellow eyes reflected the light. She'd been waiting for him, it felt like. She tried to stand, and fell down in the blankets. Shane had rushed to her side. Her bright eyes, amber with wide black irises, looked at him with such trust. It was one of Shane’s favourite memories of his childhood. 

One of Yuna’s favourite memories of Shane’s childhood occurred only an hour later. She woke up to check on their new feline houseguest, repeating her son's murmured journey. When she got downstairs, she found Shane asleep on the sofa, the kitten on his chest, purring. 

***

The next day at school, Shane buzzed through it. He didn’t mind that kids said horrible things during break times, that there was a weird smell in the gym. They’d started a new book in English class, and Shane had actually let himself enjoy it. It was the story of a little Canadian orphan girl. When he’d gotten home after hockey, he’d run in the door, toed off his shoes, and paced to the kitchen. 

His words had come out in one long chain, directed at his father who was cooking dinner. He sputtered, “helloDadIloveyouwhereisshe?”

His father had laughed and told him the basket in the living room, and Shane had run away again. 

David finished dinner. They stood in the doorway, hand-in-hand, and watched their only son play. He used gentle touches with her. He spoke quiet words of assurance whilst she took large, stomping steps with bad balance. 

David had whispered, “I think he might need this.”

Their son was so carefree. It was unusual for him. Usually, he conducted himself like a little, polite old man. He didn’t get along with other kids. He didn’t like games, other than hockey. He always did his homework without reminders.

Shane laughed again when the kitten fell over. He picked her up and gave her a kiss between her ears. 

“You’re doing so good!” he’d said to her. “You’ll find your feet.”

Yuna had swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked at her husband. "We're going to end up taking care of her."

David shrugged. Shane laughed again, when the kitten lost her balance and splatted onto the floor. "That's true, but I think she's going to take care of him too."

Yuna often felt agonised when she thought of how her son must feel. She'd felt it too when she was a child, so on the outside of things. She had hoped Shane would take after David, who always managed to make people feel so at ease. At this moment, Shane was so light. She squeezed her husband's hand and sighed, then she nodded at him. He nodded back. Decision made.

Yuna walked over to Shane and sat on the floor beside him. She beckoned over her husband who joined them. Shane smiled at them both. Yuna reached over and smoothed her son’s hair. He spotted a little bit of dirt on his neck, she licked her finger and wiped it off. Shane wiggled away, still smiling.

“I think she needs a name, Shane,” Yuna whispered. Shane had stilled. “If she’s going to be a part of the family, she needs a name.”

Yuna watched her son take a shuddered breath. Shane picked up and held the kitten to his chest, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. The distrust in it made her wince.

His parents both nodded. 

Then, in another behaviour that shocked both of his parents, Shane had burst out into tears.

After a second of shock, his parents pulled him into Yuna’s lap. Shane cried and couldn’t stop crying. Between sobs, he thanked them both over and over again. Yuna didn’t know what to do, she shushed him and told him it was okay. Shane shook his head, “I’m just so happy she’s mine.” 

Yuna felt tears well too then, and saw her husband wipe away some of his own. 

Yuna kissed the top of her son’s head. “Well, what are you going to call her?”

David laughed. “No hockey player names, either.”

Shane shook his head, and held the kitten up in front of him. Their eyes met, and she meowed at him. Shane finally stopped crying. He considered the choice, and a few names popped into his mind. The right one he felt drawn to, it felt like sinking a goal when he played the sound of it in his head. He nodded. 

“Anne,” he determined. 

Both of his parents shot a confused look. They loved Shane with their entire hearts, but he was a confusing boy sometimes.  

Frowning, “why Anne?” Yuna asked. 

Shane pulled the kitten back to his chest, where she purred with contentment. “We started reading Anne of Green Gables at school today. She was all alone.” Shane looked at both of his parents in turn. “Then, she found another family too.”

David abandoned hope of not crying. He reached over and ruffled his son’s hair, which Yuna immediately fixed. 

“Hopefully, she’ll get into less trouble than Anne,” Yuna joked. 

Their serious, serious boy briefly returned, “we only started reading it today, Mom. I don’t know what Anne does yet.”

Both of his parents laughed, their cat meowed. The family was complete.

2002

Cats became the only thing Shane cared about outside of hockey. He researched the best cat foods, the best toys. At one point, all 10 of his books from the library were about cats. He watched documentaries. He researched breeds, developmental milestones, their history. When David bought a laser pointer, Shane put it in the bin and scolded his parents for risking her eyesight. Thoroughly chastised, David apologised. 

Anne grew from a kitten to a cat. She was an early-riser. She liked her meals at specific times. She had spurts of energy where she would run through the house like a mad thing. She liked to chase balls. She liked quiet and calm in the evenings. David didn’t know how Shane had managed to find his own little cat-clone on the side of the street, but he certainly had. 

Shane became less tense. They both noticed it, how good it was having Anne around. He’d play with her, feed her. If she went out, Shane would sit by the cat flap and wait for her. When he was stressed, he’d lay on his side and stroke her, whispering his secrets and worries.

Yuna loved Anne for it. She loved Anne for how she’d come downstairs every day before Shane would get home and wait for him. She loved Anne for sitting next to Shane whilst he ate dinner. He always ate more when she did, absently petting her whilst eating meals he used to struggle to finish. She loved Anne for the fact she always curled up on her son’s lap when they all watched a movie. She loved Anne for the fact that she slept at the foot of his bed, watching over him, every single night. 

If she could go back and slap the version of herself who ever thought about not keeping the damn cat, she would. 

2003

As Shane grew up, so did Anne. They were always together, either at their Ottawa home or at the cottage. Anne understood Shane in ways Yuna and David never could. She brought him back to himself when he was growing distant. She played with him when he needed to laugh. She crawled onto his lap and purred when the world felt too much. 

He understood Anne too. Yuna found it infuriating sometimes. She would look at him a certain way and Shane would immediately say:

“She wants a treat-”

“Where did her favourite mouse go?”

“Put your bowl on the floor so she can lick some of the cream, not too much, it's not good for them, but she likes it-”

“The TV’s on too loud-”

Or, “Mom, she wants you to move so she can sit in her spot.”

Undoubtedly, Shane was right. Anne would sit content, purring or washing herself, when Shane granted her silent wish. 

He came home from school exhausted; Yuna would ask him who he talked to that day, Shane would be honest and say no one. Anne would saunter her way into the room, her little bell jingling on her collar. Shane would grin so widely that Yuna could forget how much she worried about him. 

2006

When Shane was 15, their 5 year old cat was asleep on the sofa. Her back pressed into Shane’s thigh. Shane asked the question David thought knew was bothering him. 

“Where will Anne go, if I get into the NHL?”

It came out quiet, a whisper. David could hardly hear it over the obnoxiously loud hockey on the television. He enjoyed these moments with his son, when Yuna was at work and David could read and Shane watched hockey. Anne was always within arm’s reach. David reached out and squeezed Shane’s shoulder. “She’ll probably have to stay with us, buddy.” Shane nodded, eyes wide, looking down at his best friend’s sleeping face. She twitched in her sleep. David looked at his son and down at their cat. “You know your mother and I love her too, right?”

And they did love her. She was Shane’s cat first, they all knew that. However, when Shane wasn’t around, David enjoyed work calls more when Anne sat in the sun in his office window. Yuna enjoyed sneaking Anne more treats than Shane said was allowed. They played with her, petted her, batted her off when she begged for scraps off their pates. She was a cat with so much to give, and had given so much to their son, that of course they loved to give back. 

“I know,” Shane said, nodding. It was painful to watch him try to keep his composure. 

David turned his attention back to his book. “You might get lucky and get drafted to Ottawa?” Shane groaned, and David laughed, and then Shane laughed too. David forced a little more sincerity into his voice, reaching out and stroking Anne’s tummy. “You might have to leave her behind, but we’ll keep her safe and she’ll still be here. Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

Shane’s throat felt tight, and he nodded.

June, 2009

Shane wondered if he was the first NHL player in history to be relieved to be drafted so close to home. Montreal. That’s only two hours away from Anne. He could spend nights at his parent’s house often. He could see her throughout the year. When he travels, he can find new toys for her, new treats, and fun hats. It’s best case scenario, a good team, his mother’s favourite team, and he can still see his cat.

Granted, he should have been drafted first. It plays in his mind. What should he have done differently? What could he have done?

When the photographer tells him to smile for the picture though, it isn’t hard like it could have been. At least he’ll still have Anne. He’ll have hockey, and Anne, and his parents. It’ll be okay. Now he’s been drafted and knows he still has them, there’s not going to be anything else to worry about. 

Right?

January, 2011

It’d been a mistake both times. Shane knew that. It hadn’t stopped him from agreeing to see him again in two weeks, when Boston faced Montreal. He shouldn’t have agreed. The second his mind cleared from the hypnotic affect Rozanov had on him, he knew that. There was no way this could stay contained. There was no way it ended well. It didn’t matter that he felt so electric, so on fire, both times. It needed to stop, now, whilst Shane felt like he could. 

That’s what he tried to say, that they shouldn’t meet again, that this was an unnecessary risk. Even then, he heard the words come out weak. There was no definite no. There was only a ‘probably shouldn’t’. He didn’t know why he couldn’t make himself cut the tether. The nerves bubbled in him.

Rozanov hadn’t replied. He’d walked over and touched Shane’s face. Shane felt it again, the power behind that touch, how each callous and harsh bit of skin scraped on his cheek. There was no breath in his lungs. He wanted to inhale only this, especially if this was the last time. If this was Rozanov finally saying goodbye and cutting Shane loose. 

Rozanov hadn’t done that, he’d asked for Shane’s phone instead. 

Like always, his body tried to immediately do what he was told by this man. His muscles followed the instruction before his mind could stop them. When his fingers touched the screen, hot in his pocket, they stopped. 

“My phone?” Shane asked. 

“Yes,” Rozanov drawled.

Shane stammered. “Um, why?”

An eye roll. “For my number. I want to give you my number.”

Shane’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t do that, could he? Shane’s fingers stayed on his phone. 

“I…” Shane’s mind raced. He settled himself. “Give me your phone instead.”

Rozanov raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Shane felt his skin heat. “Because.”

The man in front of Shane, inches away, shook his head. “That is not answer.” Rozanov pulled away, Shane almost stepped towards him to close the space. He stopped himself. “You are hiding something?” Shane froze. Rozanov huffed a laugh. Shane was sure that Rozanov’s jaw clenched. “Pretty girl texting you?” he asks. 

Shane’s eyes widened. “No!” It came out a little too loud. Rozanov laughed a little at it. 

“Why?” Rozanov asked again. Shane found himself looking at the ground, at Rozanov’s unsocked feet. Shane looked up when he saw those feet step towards him, felt a hand on Shane’s jaw. He looked into Rozanov’s hazel eyes and, for a moment, forgot the world.

Shane has never done a lot of eye contact. If he had to describe somebody’s eyes, he would only be able to give details on his parent’s and one other individual's.

Shane groaned, decided, and passed his phone to Rozanov. Rozanov took it with both hands. He pressed the button on the side and Shane could have cried from the mortification of it. Rozanov gasped and his face broke into a smirk. 

“Don’t-”

“Who is this?” Rozanov exclaimed, delightfully showing Shane his own lockscreen.

Shane’s lockscreen was a picture of Anne asleep on a bed of flowers at his parent’s cottage. She had her spotty, fluffy belly all exposed. Her pink toe pads turned up to the sun. Her long whiskers were white against the dirt. It was a picture that always took Shane to serenity, he was happy just looking at it every day. 

Shane looked down again. “My cat,” he answered.

Ilya shot him a shit-eating grin. “Adorable!”

Suddenly, Shane felt red hot. “Leave her alone.”

Rozanov’s face turned to one of mock offense. “Oh, so I can suck your dick but not look at your cat?”

Yes, Shane thought, exactly that. He was mortified to feel tears swim in his eyes. He never talked about Anne. Anne and hockey were two different worlds, they had to be. Now, his biggest rival knew about her. 

Rozanov spoke again. “You look like angry kitten. She taught you well.” Shane sputtered, and scowled. Rozanov laughed. 

“Please don’t…” Shane started, and then felt his throat tighten. Rozanov dropped the laughter, his face turned serious. 

“Don’t what?” He asked, voice quieter. 

“She’s my cat,” Shane whispers. “Please don’t be mean about her. Don’t be an asshole about her, please, she’s my cat.” It came out closer to begging than Shane would like, Rozanov’s eyes widened a little.

Rozanov looked taken aback. He reached out for Shane’s arm and stroked it a little, softly. 

“Okay,” Rozanov said. 

Shane tried to stay composed, but it was difficult. After this All Stars game, he’d go and see her for a few days. He was deeply excited for it, it’d been 5 weeks since he saw her last. It was the longest they had ever been apart. “I miss her all the time. Please just don’t-”

“Okay. Is okay. I won’t be asshole about cat. Promise.”

Whether it was the setting, the sincerity, the touch, Shane believed him. He took a deep breath and nodded. 

Rozanov looked back at the screen and actually softly smiled at it. Shane felt his heart tighten. 

“What is her name?” 

“Anne,” Shane replied. 

Rozanov grinned again, swiping past the screen and opening Shane’s contacts. “I will keep promise by not pointing out that is stupid cat name.”

Shane rolled his eyes, but Rozanov knew Shane was fighting a smile too.

***

Lily (22:23): You are back home, yes?

It was the All Stars break. Teams either had the week before or the week after off. Shane was back home in Ottawa, laying tucked into his childhood bed. 

Anne had been very happy to see him. She’d jumped onto his shoulders from the kitchen counter and stayed there for half an hour. She hadn’t done that in a few years, but loved doing it when she was a kitten. Shane had delighted in feeding her bespoke cat treats from America. He told her all about his games and about All Stars. He’d even whispered some of the truth about Rozanov to her, after his parents went to bed. She was always an excellent listener. 

Jane (22:25): Yes, back in Ottawa. 

He hadn’t replied. Shane was drifting off when he felt his phone buzz again. Anne was perturbed, her peace interrupted. Shane petted behind her ears and she closed her eyes again. 

Lily (22:47): Boring city. Pretty. Like you.

Shane had huffed a laugh.

Jane (22:48): What do you want?

This reply only took a few seconds.

Lily (22:49): Pictures

Shane frowned.

Jane (22:49): What pictures?

Shane looked up at the cat on his chest to find her staring back at him. 

“Sorry Anne,” he whispered. “I’m breaking our routine.”

It didn’t stop him from checking his phone the second it buzzed.

Lily (22:51): Slutty, slutty pictures.

Shane frowned again.

Jane (22:51): Of?

Lily (22:51): You

Lily (22:52): Cock, hole, ass

Lily (22:52): Now please 

Shane felt his cheeks heat up, he rolled his eyes.

Jane (22:53): No

He stroked Anne’s back until she went back to her cat nap.

Lily (22:55): 😔

It made him laugh, Anne moved up and down with the force of it and glared at Shane the whole time. 

Lily (22:56): I want to jerk off to you, Jane

Of course, that made Shane’s cock twitch. He despised that. 

Jane (22:57): Can’t do this. My cat is with me

Shane hoped that would be the end of it. It wasn’t. 

Lily (23:00): That makes me sad. I am saddened by this.

Shane ignored it, rolling his eyes again. 

Lily (23:05): Go to the bathroom, do not take cat

Shane ignored that too. He was not wasting his quality time with Anne to entertain Rozanov.

Lily (23:07): I know you read that

Chuckling, he decided to snap a quick picture of Anne. She splayed across his chest, one cheek resting downwards, her paws curled into her body. He sent it to Rozanov.

No reply for a few moments.

Lily (23:12): Ah, lost cause. Ann is too sweet, I understand. 

Shane’s mouth dropped open. Rozanov remembered his cat’s name. A warm feeling spread across his chest. Both emotionally and literally, Anne had spread herself wider across Shane’s torso.

Jane (23:14): It’s spelt Anne, with an E. 

Lily (23:14): Sorry. Anne is too sweet.

The feeling of it carried, Shane didn’t know what to call it. Then, his phone buzzed again. 

Lily (23:15): You are odd, Jane. 

Shane frowned. 

Jane (23:15): Fuck you

Lily (23:16): I’m trying. Anne cockblocks me 😔 Lucky she is pretty like you

He couldn't help himself but feel delighted. It was a confusing feeling, a scary one. His mouth was dry, his throat had a lump, his heart beat hard in his chest. Suddenly, he couldn't control his breathing. 

Anne reached out a paw and Shane took it in his fingers, feeling settled. 

Lily (23:17): Goodnight Jane, goodnight Anne

They’d never done that before, any of it. Rozanov’s was, sweet? It was worse than when he was sexy, worse than when he was an asshole. Shane didn't know what to do with a Rozanov who was nice to his cat and wished him a goodnight over text.

Jane (23:19): Goodnight Lily

He muted his phone then, and settled to try and get sleep. He didn't see the next message until the next morning. 

Lily (23:57): Send hole pic in morning 😈

2012

They had a match against each other the next Thursday. The texting always ramped up when they did. Shane knew Rozanov had a match that night too, but clearly he wasn't getting into the mindset. 

Shane was making lunch, both of his parents out of the house. No match, no practice, so Shane was back in Ottawa for a couple of days. He thought he might watch a movie or read a book. Anne tried to trip him whilst he cooked, running back and forth under his feet in anticipation of food. 

“You would think you had been starved,” he chastised. 

Her wide amber eyes looked at him in shock.

His phone buzzed again. 

Lily (12:07): I need a picture of your tits for luck

Lily (12:08): Now

He rolled his eyes, considered it, and threw caution to the wind. He pulled his shirt over his head, made sure his face was out of the shot, and took a picture of his torso from a high angle. He sent the picture. 

Lily (12:10): Perfect fucking tits, jesus Jane

Shane felt a blush crawl up his neck.

Lily (12:11): Also hello pretty Anne

He frowned, checked the photo, and there she was. She stared up at Shane from the floor. Her wide face open and expectant of incoming treats.

Lily (12:12): Tell her I said hello, tell her to wish luck also

Shane couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. He gave her a treat, checked his food, and then returned to his phone. 

Jane (12:16): She’s a calico cat! In Japan, they’re associated with good luck, so she’s already a charm. Japanese soldiers used to keep them on ships and lucky cat statues are usually calicos. Lucky cat statues have different meanings based on colour. Since calicos have white, orange, and black, they’re extra lucky. 

He sent it, saw Rozanov read the message, took a beat, and grimaced. 

Anne looked at him questioningly. 

“Anne, I think I’m being boring again,” he sighed.

He carried on making his lunch and sat down at the table to eat it. He tapped the chair next to him, and Anne jumped up to take her regular spot. 

His phone buzzed again. 

Lily (12:32): Good. You are going to need all the luck you can get next week

Shane snorted.

Jane (12:22): Fuck you

Lily (12:23): I’m sure you’ll get extra lucky too 😉

2013

It happened occasionally when they texted. Hollander would mention that his cat was with him, on his lap, in his bed. If Ilya asked, and made it sound like a joke, Hollander would send a picture of her. It meant a lot, that Hollander trusted him with her. He always liked seeing Anne, seeing this side she brought out in Hollander. Hollander was fiercely protective, very loyal, and absolutely in love with his pet cat. Honestly, she was a very lovely cat. Ilya had always liked cats, even if he did prefer dogs. Most of the people he knew growing up had cats, except for him. Svetlana’s family had cats. When he hid at her house when his father or brother were being particularly shit, Ilya always took comfort in them. They elicit a certain softness. Ilya always kept his promise. He would mock, tease, and offend Hollander, but he was always kind about Anne. He would never cross that line. Not only did he not want to, he did not think Hollander would ever speak to him again if he did.

It elicited a certain softness too in Ilya on the rare, rare occasion that Hollander sent him a selfie of him holding Anne. His smile was wider, his eyes alive. When he sent those pictures, Ilya felt like he wasn't seeing Hollander, but Shane. It flipped his stomach. For weeks afterwards, when he was all alone or lonely, he would look at them before falling asleep. 

February 2014

He had told his Mom that she didn’t have to wake up for every game; she hadn’t listened. Before each game, he called her. It was one of his rituals, a conversation with one of his parents before a game. Knowing that filled Yuna with a sense of pride unlike any other. Seeing her name written onto his hockey stick before a game made her want to weep. The fact that it was written alongside ‘Anne’ made her want to sob and laugh.

A reporter had asked about it once, asked who Anne is. Shane avoided the question. She told him that he ought to say that she’s his cat, but he didn’t want to talk about her at all. It took her a little bit of time to understand. Hockey was in his family, hockey was his life, he didn’t want hockey to have his cat too. It must be a lot for a 22 year old man to carry. He was representing his country at the Olympics. Her son was an Olympian. 

After he talked to her on the phone, he would want to talk to Anne. A picture, a meow, something, he always wanted some sort of proof of her. Yuna would always give it, if it was what he needed. 

June 2014

It took Shane a week of being back in Ottawa until he asked his Mom about it. 

“Are you feeding her right?” he asked Yuna. Anne curled up next to Shane in her favourite spot in the living room. She spent more time there these days. 

Yuna knew this was coming. She controlled her facial expressions, she didn’t want Shane to go off the rails. 

“We’ve changed her diet, moved her onto senior cat food.” Shane flinched, instinctively reaching out to smooth Anne’s fur. Yuna grimaced, then pulled herself back together. “The vet says she’s very healthy. Good teeth, good fur, she doesn’t look 12. She’s lost some muscle, she’s an older girl now.”

Her son did not move, he stayed with his eyes locked on the television. So measured, always so measured. 

“Did the vet say anything else?”

Yuna shakes her head. “No, she’s healthy. She’s getting older. All normal things.” Really, she knew that he knew this. Knowing something and seeing something are two different things. Shane knew every stage of a cat’s life, every milestone, every health fact. Still, he looked devastated. “She’s a happy cat,” Yuna tries. 

The tightness in his lips was noticeable. She saw the act for what it was, holding it together. She has always done it too, especially with the things she loves. 

Later, Shane laid down with his head on Anne’s stomach and he listened to her breathe: over and over, in and out. 

***

She still played, she still jumped. She was still good on her feet. That summer, all Shane did was check every single sign of her health. It was almost religious, the way he watched over Anne. She was still there, the little kitten he’d found in the box. He could see it in her orange, black, and white patches and her little pink toes. She still scratched her post. Every night, she begged for salmon off his plate. His girl was all good, well-looked after. His Dad said it a few times, that she was the best cared for cat in Canada. It should make him feel at ease, in some ways it did. 

When he petted her and felt her spine, bumpier than before, he felt a bit sick. Each day that the season approached, he felt like a weight increasing on his chest. 

He could not stop time. He wished he could. 

He remembered what his Dad said, all those years ago. 

“Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

Each night when she spooned into his stomach, slept on his chest, or breathed fish breath straight into his nose, he couldn’t have enjoyed it more. 

It was harder to leave for Montreal than ever before. 

October, 2016

It was just a short segment. Ilya had been watching the sports network, and Hollander had popped up. He was showing the fans, the world, his summer home. It was gorgeous, Ilya had to admit that. Hollander had called it his favourite place on earth. Ilya chewed on the inside of his mouth. It was dumb, how Hollander spoke about it all. Perfectly packaged, perfectly presentable, Shane Hollander. Hollander showed this side of himself to the world, and a whole different one to Ilya.

It was only in a few seconds of a shot. Ilya was surprised he even noticed it. Shane was holding a ridiculous yoga pose but, in the background, it was there, tucked away but not well enough hidden. A cat tower. It had to be Anne’s. 

Ilya couldn’t help but grin. So, Hollander might not ever want to have Ilya in the light. Ilya knew about Anne though, Hollander’s little princess. He couldn’t help but feel victorious, and Ilya loves to win. 

November, 2016

Shane didn’t know what to make of this domestic scene. He was feeling less on edge as they talked about hockey, watching the Buffalo game on Rozanov’s oversized television. 

“What’s your favourite city to play in?” Shane asked. “On the road.”

“I like New York, because it’s New York. They fucking hate me there.”

“They hate you everywhere-”

“They love me in Florida. It’s all Boston fans down there. You?”

Maybe, he should have considered his answer first. 

“I like Ottawa,” Shane answered, truthfully. “It’s because it’s my hometown. They love me, and I get to go home afterwards. See my parents.”

Rozanov smiled at this. It struck Shane just how genuine it seems, how crazy this all is. 

“You mean you get to see pretty Anne?”

It always made him feel exposed when Rozanov brought up Anne. Her round belly, her many patches, her morning meows, her wide face and open eyes, they existed in stark contrast to Rozanov. When those worlds clashed, it made Shane feel off balance. He already felt off balance. He already knew, with some horror, that Rozanov bringing up his cat made Shane feel some adoration. He didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“Yeah, I think I play better when I know I’m going to see her.” It’d been a couple weeks, actually, since he’d last seen her. He missed her at stupid times. He called his Mom on the phone and would almost cry listening to her meow and play in the back of the call. Sometimes, when it had been as long since he’d last seen her as this time, he began to feel like he was missing a limb. The feeling of it all crawls up his throat, his confusion, his heartache, his longing for the simple comfort of 10 minutes stroking his pet cat. He tries to flip the subject, “I like playing where it’s warm too.”

Then Ilya talked about LA, women, and girls. Shane felt more and more tense. The tuna melt was good, but it made him miss Anne. He almost mentioned that it did. When he opened a can of tuna at home, she would try and jump on the counter. She was fierce in protest and demand of any and all tuna. Shane didn’t know why; he always gave her a generous amount. It was one of Anne’s little quirks. The taste of the sandwich soured in his mouth. 

Then, Rozanov became Ilya, and he didn’t know what to do about it. 

The next time he’d seen Anne, he’d cried into her fur until he fell asleep. She’d purred at the touch, soothing him. Despite aging eyes that were losing some focus, she kept an eye on the door all night long. She watched over him, just like when he was a little boy and she was a kitten.

***

He couldn’t quite believe that he’d been talking to Rose fucking Landry all night. He liked her, he felt so sure that he liked her. It was a relief. She was interesting, funny, and gorgeous. She almost made him not think about Rozanov. 

Then, she’d asked a question. It was a simple, sweet, question.

“Have you got any pets?” 

Shane froze. It was only a second, then, he shook his head. “You?”

He heard Ilya’s voice in his ear whispering, “Anne. Pretty Anne.”

He stopped drinking. 

January, 2017

“And you and Rose Landry are…” Ilya asked. 

Shane shook his head. “Not compatible,” he repeated.

It took everything Ilya had to not laugh, cry, or cheer. Instead, he nodded. He took a sip of his beer.

“She more into dogs or?”

Shane laughs, an actual, light-hearted laugh.

Then, his face stilled. He looked around them and leant in, whispering, “I didn’t tell her about Anne.”

Ilya’s heart skipped a beat, it almost jumped out of his chest. “No?” he pried. 

Shane shrugged, took a sip of his beer too. It did not look thoughtless, it looked rehearsed. 

“It’s only you, JJ, and Hayden that know about Anne,” Shane replied. The joy it brought Ilya was unfathomable and terrifying. “She doesn’t like Hayden, she runs away from him.” 

“Ah, she has good taste.”

Shane snorted.

April, 2017

“Ilyaaaaaa,” Shane exclaimed. Ilya was frozen by the door. It had only lasted a second before Shane had shouted again, pulling him to his side. “Yes, betterrr.”

Ilya had been thinking of ending it. He’d been thinking of ending it, and then he’d thought Shane might die, and he thought he might kill Cliff. It was not Cliff’s fault, he thought he might kill him anyway. 

Shane was okay, broken collarbone, out for the playoffs, absolutely off his nut on painkillers. 

Sometimes, Shane said things Ilya was sure he had rehearsed. He had never been more sure than at his bedside in the hospital, usually Shane was a better actor. 

“I was gonna ask you-”

“Hollander-”

“Willyoucometomycottagethissummer? Don’t go to Russia. Come to my house. We’ll have so much fun, it’s so private, no one will know-”

“Hollander, you know we cannot do that-”

“We could have a week or even two. We could be totally alone, together.” Shane beamed at him. Eyes wide, vulnerable, before Ilya could say anything, Shane spoke again. He frowned before speaking. “Not totally alone,” Shane said. He looked up at Ilya and, this time, he had looked a little scared. “Anne too, if, if you wanted?” Ilya’s stomach twisted. Anne, Shane wanted him to meet his cat. The lovely little white and ginger cat with big cheeks and a long tail, Shane was willing to let Ilya meet her. 

He could see it. Ilya could see them sitting in the sun on the dock. Shane would do yoga in the mornings. They’d make dinners, listen to music, they’d talk. Ilya would get to meet this cat that Shane kept so desperately close to his heart. He wanted it. He wanted it so badly and he couldn’t have it. 

“Maybe,” Ilya had uttered, the word pained. 

Shane hummed and shut his eyes. “I think she’d like you. I know she would.” Ilya reached out and squeezed his hand. “Hayden’s too loud, he chased her too much. She likes quiet. She wants to come to you. You’ve…You would listen. You always listened, especially with her.”

Ilya wanted to know more about what they meant. He wanted to ask a high-Shane Hollander a thousand questions about his pet cat and see that easy smile, the one he only gets with her, stay on his face for hours. 

The nurse walked in and he had to leave. 

June, 2017

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: Scott Hunter was kissing a man, his boyfriend maybe, on television. Live. 

His parent’s astonishment was quiet to him. Anne looked up at Shane’s face. If she could speak English, or French, he would have been convinced she would be about to spill his secrets to everyone. 

Shane’s phone started to ring. Lily. Ilya.

He gently pushed Anne off his lap and walked to the corridor. He picked up the call. 

“What the-”

“I’m coming to the cottage.”

At his feet, Anne let out a loud, ringing meow in protest of his having left the comfortable sofa. 

Ilya laughs. “I look forward to it too, lovely Anne.”

July, 2017

Ilya had a few questions about Anne he’d thought up on the plane to Ottawa. He thought, if he didn’t know what to say, he would ask about her. Simple. 

He’d asked the first question in the car, around an hour into my journey. 

“I feel nervous, like I am meeting parents for the first time,” Ilya said. He was honestly only half joking. 

“She’s good with people.” Shane squeezed Ilya’s hand. “Better than me.”

Ilya smiled. “How old is she?”

There was a moment where Ilya wished he could take the question back. Shane’s hands tightened for just a moment on the steering wheel. 

“She’s 15,” was his reply. It sounded a little rough. “She’s 15. I…I found her when I was 10.”

That’s not young, Ilya had thought, for a cat. Shane didn’t seem to like to think about it. There was no way Ilya could blame him for that. She seemed to have such a strong hold on his heart. 

“You found her?”

This made Shane smile in a way unlike any other way Ilya had seem him do so. His voice came to life. He vibrated in his seat. Adoration, complete. 

“I had a bad practice that day. My dad and I were walking to the car and I spotted a box on the side of the road. I thought I saw something move, so I checked it out. She was in it, she was 4 weeks old.” Shane’s voice sounded tenser all of a sudden, “it was November in Ottawa and it was about 6 in the evening. She… She wouldn’t have lasted the night.”

Ilya frowned. He’d grown rather fond of the snippets of Anne he’d seen over the years, and he loved how she made Shane feel. The reality was that Ilya had spent many years afraid and scared of his competition, imagining women, detesting Rose Landry. Probably, his biggest rival for Shane’s heart was actually a rescue cat. Ilya did not think he would win. He squeezed Shane’s hand again. “She was very lucky you found her.”

Again, he smiled. “Everybody says that. It’s not true though.”

“No?”

Shane grinned wide. “I was lucky she found me.”

***

Ilya had met government officials, league officials, and celebrities. He did not know why he felt twice as nervous to meet a certain calico cat as he did when he met them, but he was certain he did. 

Shane carried his bags to the doorstep, and then lightly put them down and turned to face Ilya. 

He hesitated. 

Ilya raised an eyebrow. “Is there a password I’m supposed to know?”

“No,” Shane laughed, nervous. “I just-Um-Can I kiss you now? Because Anne’s going to be all over me when we get in and it won’t be very sexy and-”

Ilya cut him off with a kiss that he’d been waiting for for months. He felt it deep in his body, in his groin, in his heart, and throat. He felt Shane’s half hard cock against his thigh and grinned into his mouth. He pulled an inch away, he could feel Shane’s breath on his mouth. 

“Sexy enough?”

Shane blushed, turned around, and opened the door. 

Ilya knew this was all going to be too much for his poor heart, which beat through his chest. This man was beautiful, this house a testament to Shane’s love for architecture. 

“Hello!” Shane called out, voice ringing out. Ilya rarely heard him be loud. 

Ilya heard the tinkling chime of a bell. 

Anne came around the corner, looking up at Shane with utter excitement. Ilya could relate. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Ilya. 

Ilya kneeled down, cursing the twinge in his ribs. He extended a hand. Shane had said she preferred to come to him. God, Ilya hoped this cat liked him. This was a test he did not think he could fail. 

Shane watched the whole thing in utter amazement. Ilya knew what to do. He’d just opened his mouth to tell him, and he’d done it himself. 

“She’ll want to smell you,” he whispered. 

She took cautious steps, a little more uncertain on her footing these days. In her younger years, she bounded and leaped. As an older cat, she mostly slept, ate, and followed around her humans in fierce pursuit. 

Sniffing Ilya’s outstretched hand, she leaned forward, then back, then forward. There was a hesitation that felt endless.  

“She is just like you,” Ilya teased. Shane chuckled. 

“He’s nice,” Shane told her. 

Ilya raised an eyebrow at him. 

“He’s nice to me,” he corrected.

Ilya kept the eyebrow raised. 

“Most of the time.”

She rubbed her face against Ilya’s hand. Ilya smoothed her back, tickling the base of her tail. 

“Likes her ears touched?” Ilya asked. Shane nodded.

“She likes ears, chin, and belly pets the most. She likes being stroked too. Don’t touch her feet, she’ll bite you.”

Ilya kneeled down and petted her thoroughly. She preened at the touch, chasing his hand. 

She is just like me, Shane thought. 

***

Ilya had been hoping to enjoy post-sex bliss in bed with Shane with no disruptions. That dream did not come true.

He heard scratching at the door, a meow. 

Shane, naked and pressed against his chest, groaned as he launched himself to his feet. Ilya watched him slip on underwear quickly, and then open the door. 

Ilya did not see Anne, just hearing a quiet and demanding meow. 

“Yes, dinner. Sorry I lost track of time.”

She meowed again, it sounded forgiving. Ilya laughed. 

Shane turned around to smile at Ilya. 

This time, Anne’s meow didn’t sound forgiving. 

Ilya laughed more as Shane swore, left the room, and paced downstairs to fill her bowl. 

***

“I told you not to touch her feet!”

“I did not realise she was so quick to violence,” Ilya replied, rubbing his palm. Shane took Ilya’s hand and kissed it, inspecting it after. “Only a nip. She was polite enough to warn you.”

“Oh, polite?”

Shane grimaced. “She was not so polite to Hayden.”

Ilya’s chuckle was warm and full, and Shane could not believe this was really happening. 

***

Ilya had not known what to expect at the cottage. Sex, food, relaxation, those he had considered. All of those were also true of the first day he spent there. 

He had known that Shane Hollander loved his cat.

He had not known that Shane and Anne Hollander were such a tight, wordless unit. He’d watched Shane panic for years in social settings, so unsure of himself. He was completely sure of his cat. He knew what she wanted from a certain look, from where she sat. He spoke to her constantly. The weird thing was, Ilya was almost convinced she understood him. They were extensions of each other. They wanted the same things, and enjoyed each other’s company. Ilya didn’t think he’d ever seen another person and their cat be the same way. He understood better now why Shane had been so defensive. They were precious to each other, saved each other. 

When they’d sat by the fire, Ilya couldn’t help but open his heart and offer it to Shane. After the bird calls, after the foot finding, he just wanted Shane to see him. 

When Ilya had been close to tears, he’d jumped out of his skin at sudden weight on his legs. 

Shane had slammed a hand over Ilya’s thighs, keeping him still. 

“Sorry! I didn’t realise you couldn’t see her.”

Anne made a slight noise of protest at the movement. Ilya froze in place. He felt pin pricks of pressure coming up the sides of his legs and onto his torso. Shane’s hand moved. With one hand in Ilya’s hair, he realised Shane must be stroking Anne. 

“This okay for your ribs,” Shane asked. Ilya had said it was fine, then felt Anne lay on top of him. He curved his head, and met curious, amber eyes. 

After a second, Ilya felt the vibration of purring. 

“She was worried about you,” Shane whispers. “She’s always picked up on that. Lots of cats can.”

The night was beautiful, the orange flickers of flame, a sky full of stars. Shane realised, he never thought he could have these two parts of himself close like this, not in person. How light he felt, how wonderful. 

***

The next morning, Ilya snuck out for a cigarette. He needed a moment to process all of this. He wasn’t used to letting himself feel this good and enjoying it. 

A few minutes later, he heard the door slide. He heard the sound of a bell. 

Anne appeared at his feet, rubbing her head on his ankles. Shane pressed himself into Ilya’s side, and wrapped a blanket around them. 

If Ilya had to wipe away a few tears, he didn’t think it mattered too much. 

***

She was mostly white. A little skinny, she had a wide face and ears that seemed too small. Wide amber eyes that seemed to perceive everything. Her collar was dark blue, her bell gold. She had patches of orange, a few smaller ones of black, and black spots on her stomach. Her toe pads were pink. On one foot, she had an orange sock. If you played with her tail, she would let you manipulate it as you pleased. She was easy to purr. She was chatty, meowing when spoken to. Always, she was with Shane if she could be. She liked to sleep in patches of sunshine. She would demand foot off plates. She liked to jump on table tops and counters, but knew she wasn’t allowed near the stove. 

Pictures and glimpses of her did not do her justice over the last years. Ilya found that he fell in love with Anne in about a day. It made sense, he thinks it’s about as long as it took him to fall in love with Shane too. 

***

God. He knew so many facts about cats. He knew as much about cats as he did about hockey, they just hadn’t had a reason to talk about it until now. He loved him. He loved him so much he could barely feel anything else. 

***

Ilya held Shane as he knelt on the ground, heavily breathing against his legs. He tried joking, he tried sincerity. 

He got him on his feet. Shane was circling through so much, so fucking scared. Ilya wanted to go hunt Shane’s father down and drag him back to apologise. 

“This is my fucking nightmare, Ilya!”

Ilya took a deep breath. “Then, maybe it is time to wake up?” He could see it in Shane’s eyes, how he considered this. From the floor next to them, he heard a meow. Without missing a beat, Ilya said “look, she agrees. I’m right.”

Another meow. Anne brushed herself over Shane’s feet, looking up at him. 

Shane leaned over and picked her up, holding her close to his chest. She looked up at him. Ilya reached over and scratched at her ears. 

Shane took deep settling breaths, Anne allowed herself to be held. Ilya rubbed one hand over Shane’s back, the other tickling circles on Anne’s belly. 

***

Shane sat on the sofa, his head leaned back and his eyes shut. Ilya brushed his fingers over wherever he could touch. He heard the tinkle of a bell, the slight sound of soft impact, and then Anne was on Shane’s lap. 

“See, now she helps you,” Ilya whispered.

Shane nodded, blindly reaching out and still managing to pet his cat exactly how she likes. Muscle memory, 15 years of it. 

Shane’s had his cat for longer than Ilya had his mother. That thought shattered into his mind. He had to look away for a few moments to put it back together, the complicated mess of feelings it arose. 

The day had been emotional enough without this.

“They didn’t mind,” Ilya repeats. 

Shane huffed out a breath.

Ilya nodded at Anne, not like Shane can see it. “You probably need to tell her too.”

He had thought it would make Shane smile. He had thought maybe that, earnestly, Shane would tell Anne about them. Instead, Shane shook his head. 

“She already knows. I told her after Vegas.” The sincerity with which it’s said makes Ilya choke. Shane opened his eyes, he shot Ilya a sad smile. “I couldn’t tell anybody else. I needed to talk about it… Is that okay?”

Despite everything, this makes Ilya chuckle. It came out a little wet. “You are asking me if it’s okay that you told your cat about us?”

Shane had considered it, almost wanting to defend himself. Instead, he laughed too. 

“Good point.”

When they went to bed, Anne slipped in between them, curling up into Shane’s side, reaching a paw over the back of Ilya’s hand. 

***

Ilya had to leave his boyfriend, the cottage, and Anne behind in an hour. Shane and Ilya sat wordless by the water, wishing time would stop. Shane would have done anything to freeze the time they had spent together. It was impossible.

Anne had walked over and plonked herself on Ilya’s lap. It was as if she knew, it was as if she was begging him not to go.

“Take care of him, okay?” Ilya asked her.

Amber eyes looked up at hazel ones. She chirped at him and headbutted his stomach. As if she were saying that, of course, of course she would, she always had. 

Shane started crying onto Ilya’s shoulder and Ilya cried in earnest too. 

2018

They spent Christmas together and enjoyed simple days with no hockey. David had cooked. Yuna had gotten tipsy enough to get out Shane’s baby photos.

It was lovely, even more lovely given Shane’s embarrassment, to see this documentation of how he grew. The picture of Shane’s first time skating had made Ilya’s heart soar. The boy with brown eyes grew into a little version of Shane. 

“Here she is!” Yuna pointed to the book. Sure enough, there she was, Anne and Shane. Except, Shane was a child and Anne was so, so small. It didn’t surprise Ilya that the picture was Anne and Shane, side by side on Shane’s bed. He’d seen them sitting in the exact same way, in the exact same place, earlier that same day. 

Ilya may have been pleasantly drunk too. He kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. “You and your best friend!”

Shane groaned. “Hayden’s my best friend-”

A small meow from Shane’s lap.

Shane looked at Anne. Anne looked at Shane, affronted. Shane sighed and looked back at his boyfriend.

“Me and my best friend,” he confirmed.

Yuna dropped her wine glass laughing. David cleaned up, smiling too. He gave a special smile just to Ilya.

“It’s so nice to have you here, son,” he said. He’d said a variation of this each day since Ilya arrived. Each time, it choked Ilya up. He never thought he could have Shane, a family, and, by extension, a cat. Love, this type of pure love, had not seemed attainable. He thanks his Mama that he was wrong. 

2019

Since Ilya had moved to Ottawa, Shane’s parents had made an effort to be there for him. The fact that Yuna and David invited him over to watch Shane’s games with them made his heart so warm. A bowl of ice cream was in his hands, he watched his boyfriend skate like he was built for it. He was, Ilya thought, built for it. 

“Anne!” Yuna shouted.

Ilya looked down at his ice cream and realised Anne had her head in the bowl: the wonderful little opportunist. 

Ilya pulled the bowl away, David’s hearty chuckles filled the space. It was so wonderful it made him envious, a house with parents who laugh. 

“Naughty girl!” Yuna said, a smile wide on her face. She looked at Ilya. “Would you like another bowl?”

Ilya chuckled. Anne looked up at Ilya like she has never done anything wrong in her life. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ilya replied. He stroked Anne’s face and wiped a little bit of cream off her nose. 

He heard the snap of a camera and looked over at David, who was holding up his camera.

“For Shane,” David said.

Shane scored and all attention returned to his game.

***

Shane had to choke back tears in the locker room after opening his phone. He missed Ilya. He missed Anne. Ilya looked so happy, so relaxed. She was sitting on him, not on his parents, on him. 

He didn’t notice Hayden walking up behind him. 

“Of course she likes him,” Hayden huffed.

Shane did not look up from the screen. “Similar taste.”

Hayden clapped Shane on the back and Shane put his phone away.

January, 2021

Shane couldn’t wait to get to Ottawa. The matches since the plane-crash-that-could-have-been were hell. He’d been all over the place. Tomorrow, he would see Ilya. He was getting there a night early to get everything ready. 

He let himself into his parent’s house with his key. His Mom was at a meeting, his Dad was at work. 

“Hello!” he called out. He waited to hear it. Like a balm to his soul, the tinkling of Anne’s bell filled the empty rooms. 

When she appeared, he picked her up and held her close. He started crying again. The last few days had been non-stop tears.

He told her what happened. He told her that he’d been an idiot, that he’d been completely unfair. He told her that he was so scared to lose Ilya. He was more scared to lose Ilya than he was to lose hockey. He told her how afraid he was to come out, but he’d do it. He told her that he was going to step the fuck up for the man he loved, how he should have done it earlier. 

He asked her what she thought of the ring. She slowly blinked at him, and he thought that was a yes, that it had to be. 

Despite all of the comfort and assurances he’d received, it was only this conversation that made him feel like he had two feet on the ground, that made him feel completely and utterly ready. 

March, 2021

Ilya thought Shane might be dubious of Anya. He was right, it just wasn’t for the reasons he thought. He’d been keeping a thought to himself for the whole surprise introduction. 

“Sweetheart, what is the problem?”

Shane grimaced. He’d been trying to have less problems, he’d been really working on it. 

“Nothing.” Ilya glared at him. Shane sighed. “Well, um, is she good with cats?”

Oh, Ilya realised, that should have been one of the first things he’d said. Silly of him. 

“Harris’s family has a cat. She’s good with Ursula. I checked.”

The relief washed over Shane, “thank god.”

When he next petted Anya, he seemed much happier about it. 

***

Anya was a lot more interested in Anne then Anne in Anya. Anne took a few cursory sniffs, and then continued her day. By continuing her day, that meant finding and following Shane whenever she could. Another Hollander, or Ilya, would suffice if Shane was not available. 

Anya seemed to get the message. Over the course of the introduction day, and Anya’s first time visiting Shane’s parents house, the two pets had barely interacted. Pleasantly happy, but separately. 

Before Shane and Ilya had to leave, they found Anya asleep on one end of the sofa and Anne asleep on the other.

“That’ll do,” Shane said. 

Ilya picked up Anya. Shane leaned over and gave Anne a kiss goodbye, promising to be back the day after next. The next day, they were going to see if Anya was good with kids by visiting the Pikes.  

***

The next day, Ilya didn’t know if he could have ever imagined Shane so distraught. He didn’t eat. He barely said a word. They both had somewhere to be, a practice and a match. There was almost a sickly, green pallor to Shane’s skin. Ilya had to go, it was one of the hardest times he’s even gone. 

When Shane found out he’d been benched, he got straight in the car and drove to Ottawa. He didn’t drive to Ilya. He thought about it, but set his course for his parents house. He let himself in. Both of his parents were shocked to see him, rushing to him at the door. He ignored them both, searching the floors, searching the chairs. Where was she?

He saw her coming down the stairs and started crying again. He rushed to her, settling himself on the stairs with shaking legs. He picked her up, put her in his lap, and sobbed into her fur. She began to purr and it was the only thing, the only thing that made the tears stop.

***

His Mom or Dad must have called Ilya. Ilya showed up within an hour. It spoke to how disorientated Shane was. He was sitting on the sofa, but he hadn’t realised until Ilya had spoken to him. All he’d done was listen to Anne’s heartbeat, her breathing, and the gentle noises of her life. 

Ilya didn’t do anything other than sit next to him, gently stroking his back, feeling his down devastation too. Eventually when Shane spoke, he told Anne what had happened in Montreal. He felt his parents tense, he felt Ilya freeze next to him. Anne just listened, she just listened and looked at him with those same amber eyes that had captivated him from childhood. Always there. Always. 

May, 2021

Becoming a Centaur was the only choice. Ilya, his parents, Anne. It was all Shane wanted really.

That wasn’t true. He had wanted his name in the hall of fame. He’d wanted his number retired with Montreal. He’d wanted to be Montreal’s hero. 

He could be Ilya’s hero. 

He already was Anne’s.

It was good. It was fine. It was what he wanted. He knew he’d be so happy. It just all had to hurt less first. He had to get through the summer, heal, and enjoy his wedding to the wonderful man he’d always loved. 

He thought again of what his father said all those years ago: “Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

Back then, he hadn’t thought to ask what to do when the pain arrived. He wished he had. 

July, 2021

It was decided that Anne would split time between Shane’s house and his parent’s house. She got along with Anya, the month of living together as a four had gone well. Instead of Shane just having his own little follower, Ilya had his own. Shane enjoyed taking Anya out for walks in the early morning. Ilya enjoyed how Anne would sleep on the pillow above their heads whilst Anya slept in her own bed in the corner of her room. It hardly seemed fair, Ilya pointed out. Shane shrugged and asked him where he’d put Anne. Ilya shut up.

It delighted Ilya that Anne loved Troy but bit Harris, who stroked her a bit too hard. 

It delighted Ilya that, the couple of times his, their, teammates had brought their children over, the quiet ones would gravitate towards Anne. The loud, boisterous children would play with Anya in the garden. 

He loved most of all, for very petty reasons, that Anne completely ignored Rose Landry when they’d met the day previously. It had made him feel wonderful though, when Svetlana had pet Anne exactly how she liked without having to be told. It eased the tension out of Shane too. 

They were getting married the next day. The previous days had been chaotic. Documents, welcomes, logistics, they’d be lost without Yuna. 

Shane was going to take Anne to his parent’s house in the morning and get ready there with Yuna. They’d talked about whether she would be okay with all of the guests and the noise. They’d decided, albeit sadly, it wasn’t fair to Anne. David was going to come to the house and help Ilya. 

In a moment, Ilya would walk up the stairs and join Shane. These days, he tended to carry Anne up to bed. The stairs had started taking her extra time over the last year. Anya was sleep on his feet, Anne was sleeping next to him,

He leaned over to Anne and gave her a big kiss on her stomach. She chirped in surprise. 

“Lovely Anne,” he said. “Thank you so much for everything.”

He scooped her into his arms, Anya got to her feet, and they found Shane together. 

October, 2021

If somebody had told Shane when he was 10 that he would one day play for the Ottawa Centaurs, he would have screamed in joy. At age 29, he wants to scream for a few different reasons. He’s so excited to play with Ilya again. He’s so excited to live with his husband. He’s so excited to have a dog. Every day and each day, he gets to see Anne. They’ll make the Centaurs the team the league feared. Shane knew it. Even if his chest bubbled with tension, even if Montreal felt like a wound, he knew they would make it fantastic. 

As was his tradition, he chatted to Anne before he left. He told her that he was scared, but he knew it’d be alright. He told her he loved her. He told her that she was the best good luck charm in the world. He gave her a kiss and left to go to the front door. 

Ilya had been listening, watching how his husband kneeled in front of the cat like he was in prayer. Ilya knelt by Anne too.  He told her the same thing, word for word, as Shane. He told her he was so grateful for how she took care of Shane. He kissed her too. From sleepy eyes and a smelly mouth, she meowed at him and then went back to her cat nap.

November, 2021

Shane was jumping with excitement in his step as they walked into his parent’s house. They’d just gotten back from their road trip. Anya was at Ilya’s side. The air was cold, the weather rainy. 

Twenty years ago. To the day, apparently. 

Shane’s parents let them in. 

Shane’s words came out in one long chain. “HeyDadheyMomIloveyoubothsomuchwhereisshe.”

Behind him, Ilya snorted. David pointed to the living room and Shane was off. 

He kneeled in front of Anne on the sofa, Anne who was slowing down in a major way. 

At the beginning of the season, Yuna had pulled Ilya aside. She had asked Ilya what he wanted her to do if Anne ‘passed on’ while they were playing away. Ilya hadn’t known what to say, he’d just asked that she call him first. He didn’t want Shane to be alone. She nodded in response and that was it. 

Ever since, Ilya would occasionally watch Shane and Anne whilst feeling a heaviness of anticipation. The clock was running out, it had to be. She struggled with stairs. She sometimes tripped over her feet. The vet said she was happy and healthy, but had also mentioned that cats at this age can decline quickly. 

Shane had barely said a word for the rest of the day after hearing that. Keeping it together, Ilya knew he was thinly keeping a lid on a world of emotion. 

Behind him, Ilya saw Shane’s parents fussing over a plate. It delighted him to realise that they were trying to stick a candle in a decanted tin of salmon. 

Ilya went and sat next to Anne on the sofa. 

When Shane’s parents came in singing Happy Birthday, Ilya watched Shane. The delight in his face, the way he smiled after blowing out Anne’s candle. If Ilya could have paused their lives right there, he would have. He would have kept Shane’s best friend from leaving them. He would have held everything together, fought the world, to keep Shane’s fragile heart from breaking. 

Ilya did not have the power, he could not be that hero for Shane. He kissed him on the cheek instead and kissed Anne too, begging her, in his thoughts, to please stay as long as she could. 

February, 2022

He was glad they were at home. They got in late from a flight the night before, exhausted after a string of games. They hadn’t even picked up Anya yet, they were going to do it first thing in the morning, after a lay in. 

When Ilya and Yuna had that conversation, Ilya had changed his phone settings. Yuna and David could call Ilya at any time and his phone would ring. They knew how late Shane and Ilya got home. So, when Ilya’s phone rang at half seven in the morning, he knew it couldn’t be good. He’d grabbed it, shook off some sleep, and left the room as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t wake up Shane. 

Yuna was crying. He’d never heard Yuna cry. 

Ilya swallowed. “Has it…Has it…”

“I just found her,” Yuna got out, crying thoroughly. “I’m so sorry, Ilya. He’s going to be devastated. She seemed fine yesterday. If I’d had any idea-” The words choked out into nothing. 

His own lip quivered. “What happened?”

Yuna sucked in a breath. “She was sleeping on Shane’s bed. He’d left out a shirt for her, you know how she likes-” Yuna gasped. “How she liked, to sleep on things that smelt like Shane. I went in to open the window for a bit and realised she wasn’t breathing and she was…” Yuna cried, she just cried. It must have been for at least a minute straight. Ilya didn’t know what to do. “She was cold. She was cold. She looks so peaceful. I’m so sorry, Ilya. I can come over and tell him. I can-”

“No,” Ilya whispered. He chastised himself. “Sorry. I mean, no, I’ll tell him.” Ilya sniffed. He’d been dreading this. It felt unreal. What was his husband going to do? What was he going to do? 

In the corner of the room, he saw one of her scratching posts. It sat there, waiting for her. Ilya couldn’t breathe, Anne was never coming home. 

He had to tell his husband his best friend would never come home. 

***

He took a minute to get himself put together. He sent a text to Harris and asked him, with love, to please pick up Anya and look after her for a day or two. He offered money, anything they wanted. It had taken a world of composure to just type the words, ‘Anne has passed away’. Harris, lovely Harris whom Ilya loved deeply, had replied straight away, despite the early hour. Within ten minutes, he got a text that Harris was on his way to get Anya. 

Ilya splashed cold water on his face. He settled his breathing. He used every technique he could to control his nausea. 

It’d almost come crashing down on his head when he’d walked into their bedroom and seen Shane asleep. Except Shane wasn’t just sleeping, he had his head angled the way he had to when Anne insisted on sleeping on his pillow. 

Ilya sat down on the bed next to Shane, he shook him gently awake. Always more of a morning person, Shane smiled at him when he woke up. 

Then, Shane noticed Ilya’s face and quickly pushed himself up. 

“What’s happened?”

Ilya couldn’t bring himself to say the words. They climbed into his mouth and stayed there. 

Shane searched Ilya’s face, Shane’s eyes grew. Terrified. His husband was terrified. 

“Ilya, what’s happened? Are you okay?” 

Oh, sweet, beautiful, Shane, Ilya thought. Ilya cleared his throat. 

“Shane, I…” He almost started to cry, but he couldn’t cry. “Shane, sweetheart, Yuna called me. She…”

Shane’s whole body tensed. His lip wobbled. Ilya could see it in his eyes, that he’d figured it out. The world had ended, Shane knew it. 

The words he chose, sat up in bed, still tired, how desperate he was, it was what pushed Ilya over the edge. 

Shane had looked at him with wet eyes that were wide, just like hers. 

“Please tell me it’s not… Tell me I’m wrong.”

Ilya felt his own tears fall down his face. He shook his head. 

Shane had stared out. Then, he’d hyperventilated against Ilya’s chest, close to screaming, hardly breathing. 

***

Shane shook for the entire drive to his parent’s house. Ilya insisted on driving. Shane had hardly said a word. He hadn’t asked a question, asked about Anya, he hadn’t asked for a piece of information. 

When Ilya turned off the engine, Shane jumped out of the car and ran to the door. He didn’t even shut the car door after himself, Ilya leaned over and pulled it shut before following, somberly and silently. 

He came up behind Shane who was looking at his parents, all three of them stood in quiet desolation. 

Shane choked out the words, voice ragged. 

“Hey Dad, Hey Mom,” Shane whispered. His tears fell heavier again. “Where is she?”

Yuna turned away, looking at Ilya. 

David said, “upstairs buddy, in your room.”

Yuna’s own tears bothered Ilya in a way he could barely formulate. It could have been that she was usually the unshakable one. It could have been simply that she was a mother figure to him. Ilya reached out and pulled Yuna into his chest, stroking her back. Yuna cried against his chest where Shane had been sobbing only a minute ago. 

David stood, looking a little lost. 

Ilya reached for him too, the three of them stood in a silent embrace, throats tight. 

***

She had been fine. At the last check up, they said she was doing so well. Shane couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. 

He stared at her, curled up on his shirt. Mom had to be wrong. Please. Please be wrong. 

He knelt by the bed and stroked her face. 

He could see it, in his mind’s eyes, how her eyes would open. She’d chirp at him. She’d stand up and rub her face on his. She’d welcome him home. 

She didn’t move.

She was cold, colder than the day he found her. 

It couldn’t be true. There was no way. He would have known. He would have felt it. He would have felt it like a wound.

He did feel it like a wound. He felt like he’d been carved in half and scooped out. He felt like somebody had shoved something sharp between his eyes. 

He couldn’t stop shaking.

It had to stop. Anne had to wake up now. 

Anne, he begged, please wake up.

She didn’t move. 

Shane didn’t move either. 

Outside, the world carried on. The sunlight came through the window, covering her and him. The cars drove by. The kids went to school. 

Inside, Shane felt like the ground had vanished beneath him and he was falling, falling hard, and he was going to crash any second. Maybe, he already had. 

***

One by one, they’d tried to get him to leave the room. Yuna had called the vet. She’d organised to have Anne cremated. Ilya hated the thought of it, but he kept that to himself. They needed to take Anne’s body there. This meant, Shane had to say goodbye. 

Ilya had tried first, of course he had. He’d felt like a terrible husband saying that he didn’t even think Shane even realised he was there. 

Yuna had tried next. She came down next, face blank, shaking her head. 

David sat next to his son. He just sat there for a while, looking at his son’s face. Shane rarely cried openly, he usually kept it so contained. Shane’s face had become a wet mess of tears and snot. David reached for the hanky he kept in his pocket and did something he didn’t think he’d done in over two decades. He wiped his son’s face, put the hanky to his noise, and told him to blow. He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry when Shane did it. 

“I love you son,” he’d whispered. “I love you, but it’s time. She has to go now. I’m so sorry.”

Shane shook his head. “She can’t go.”

It sounded completely broken. 

Shane reached out and pet her ears again. 

David swallowed his pain. He hesitated, and then reached out a hand and stroked Anne’s back. He felt each bump of her spine, 

They sat like that for a while, petting her.

Ilya had come back upstairs, saw them, sat behind Shane, and did the same thing. He smoothed her whiskers. 

When Yuna had come upstairs next, she had gasped, left for two seconds, came back, sat on the end of the bed, and joined them, rubbing a hand over Anne’s stomach. 

Eventually, Shane stopped. The others stopped too. 

“I love her so much,” Shane whispered, his chest wobbling. 

Ilya pressed a kiss to the back of Shane’s neck. “She knew. She knew how much you all loved her, how we loved her.”

David smiled at his son. “The most loved cat in Canada.”

Shane laughed, it came out wet and horrid. 

His words come out rushed. “I need to say goodbye now or I never will.” His family nodded, staying still behind him. He looked at Anne’s sleeping face, her absence of breath. “I’m so glad I found you. I’m so glad Mom and Dad let me keep you. You will never know how much you mean to me. I will always love you, life will never be the same. I love you so much, Anne.”

Next to him, David rubbed Shane’s back. “She was such a beautiful chapter in our lives.”

Shane didn’t say it out loud, he didn’t want to worry anybody. If Anne was a chapter, he didn’t know how interested he was in the rest of the book. 

He stood up, he pressed one last kiss to her head, and he left. He did it quickly, because there was no other way he could. Ilya stayed a step behind him, desperately wanting to fix something that he just couldn’t.

***

Shane barely remembered the rest of the day. He had some awareness of being in the car going home, of Ilya driving. He knew he got back to their house. He almost screamed looking at Anne’s food bowl sitting innocently, waiting for her. Then, the thought of that space sitting empty made him want to explode. He looked at the space next to it.

He could have smacked himself. “Anya!” Rushing, he ran back to the door and started to put on his shoes. His tears flooded back. “We forgot Anya!”

Ilya shook his head, reached out, and stopped Shane. 

“Harris and Troy have her. She’s having play date with Chiron. Anya is fine.”

All of the adrenaline Shane felt crashed down. He tried to stop crying, and he couldn’t. He cried into Ilya’s chest again. At some point, Ilya got him in the shower, at some point, he went to bed. The next day, he woke up and briefly thought it was a horrible nightmare. It wasn’t. He’d been wrong all those years ago, this was the nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

***

“Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

He wanted the world to stop.

***

“Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

How had the world not stopped for everyone else?

***

“Don’t steal pain from the future, enjoy this as it is now.”

He’d tried not to. He’d enjoyed every second with her. He’d pretended that she was always going to be there, because he couldn’t imagine her not being. 

Each day since, he’d tried to put a little piece of himself back together. It went backwards and forwards. There were days he couldn’t eat without crying. There were days when breathing hurt. There were days he could just pretend she was at his parent’s house, waiting for him.

***

Harris and Troy brought Anya home after a week. Shane was excited to see her, in a reluctant and tense way. Ilya had asked Shane if he could invite them in. Shane had agreed.

Harris had put a box in Shane’s hands. “I told my Mom, she sent some of her famous apple fritters.”

It was kind, so Shane thanked him, even if he knew he’d give them to Ilya. 

Harris squeezed Shane’s shoulder. He liked Harris, he liked Harris and Troy. He felt nothing. 

“Does it feel like the world’s lost its colour?” Harris asked. 

Shane met his eyes, kind ones. He felt his chest squeeze. Shane hadn’t known what to do. He’d just nodded. 

“I’ve felt that too. Felt like there was no colour, everything was pointless, what was the point in having loved them so much if they left?”

Shane felt his eyes swim. 

Harris rubbed his bicep. “You will be so glad you loved her. She was such a wonderful girl. She loved her life and she loved you. It will stop hurting so much. You made the most of it with her. The memories will become happier, okay buddy? You just need to get there.”

Then, Harris pulled him in for a hug. He felt Troy’s hand on his back too. 

He heard Ilya sniff. Shane looked at his husband and saw him crying too. 

Harris laughed and it filled the space with such sincere joy, Shane almost smiled. 

“I didn’t mean to set you off too!”

Ilya wiped his tears. “You’re just so wise-”

“Stop being a fucker! Come here!” Harris reached for Ilya too, and Ilya squeezed him tight.

Shane didn’t feel better, but he, for the first time, felt like he could be. 

June, 2022

They had spread Anne’s ashes at both of the cottages, in the flowers at his parent’s place and by Ilya’s mother’s memorial spot at theirs. 

“She’ll look after Anne, I promise. She loved cats,” Ilya had assured. It was true. He could picture them together. He could picture his mother so grateful for the lovely gift her son’s husband had sent her. 

Shane placed Anne’s collar on a stone. They’d sat there for hours, talking to Irina and Anne. 

Shane told Irina every bit of mischief Anne had ever gotten up to. 

Ilya told Anne about hockey. Shane had slapped Ilya’s knee, telling him off for boring her.

Shane felt lighter than he had. Mostly, he just felt grateful. Sometimes, he felt lonely. 

***

Later that week, Shane had spent time with Anne by himself. 

He told her that he still looked for her, even though he didn’t mean to. His eyes just searched rooms for her, checking her favourite spots. He told her that he had donated so much money to cat charities that his Mom had to tell him to stop. He told her how much he loved his husband, that Ilya missed him too, that he was so glad to go through this with someone, because he never would have made it without him. He told her about the Centaurs, how grateful he was for them, how kind they had all been after she died. He told her about Anya, how her training was going. He told her that his heart hurt a little less every day, that he smiled at the memory of her, how he was just so glad, so grateful, that they had belonged to each other the way they did. 

May, 2023

Ilya’s was out searching for a birthday present when he got the call from Harris. 

He picked up the call. “Harris! What can I do for you?”

Usually, Harris wanted to organise a puppy play date, or ask him to be in some social media content. Instead, Harris hesitated. 

Ilya has seen Harris hesitate maybe like, 3 times in total ever. 

“Ilya, a few days ago, Troy and I were driving home and…”

There was an edge to his voice. 

“What? Did you total your car?”

Harris laughed. “No. We, um, actually found two kittens on the side of the road.”

Ilya stopped walking, he looked around, there was nobody near him. He sat on a bench, feeling like he might need to sit for this. 

“Okay?”

Harris sighed. “I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I know Shane’s still hurting. But…” He heard Harris stop again, considering his words. “We took them to the vet. They’re fine. We were really excited, Troy kept saying he wanted a cat. There’s a problem though.” Harris attempted some levity. “Chiron doesn’t like them. He’s gotten snippier. He’s distressed. We’ve been trying, but it’s not working. We’ve decided the kittens need to go somewhere else. Now, I can ask my friends and Troy can ask the team. I just wondered if…”  Ah, Ilya thought. He understood. “If you’re not interested, that’s completely fine. I totally understand. It might be too soon. If that is the case, and you want us to keep it away from the team, we can. I just wanted to see if-”

“Harris, you are a wonderful man. That is kind. You are very kind.”

He meant every word. 

“Let me talk to Shane. I’ll get back to you this evening, is that okay?”

The reality was, he had no idea how Shane would react. When it came to Anne, came to cats, Shane was not healed. He honestly didn’t know if Shane ever would be. It was okay. He had learned to enjoy things again. Shane had learned to enjoy Anya, which Ilya had been terrified about. Gradually, he had become more and more himself again. He became the version of himself that existed without his best friend, which was sadder and more reserved. Ilya accepted this, accepted Shane good times and bad. 

He said goodbye to Harris, finished his shopping, and went home. 

***

Ilya had tried to bring it up as casually as he could, but Shane still flinched at the words. 

“We do not have to. Harris wanted to give you the choice. He also said he can keep it away from the team, if it is painful. Sweetheart, it is up to you.”

How his mind raced. His heart squeezed and expanded. Two kittens. A road. Just like her. 

He missed her every day. 

He missed her meow, the way she walked, her personality. No cat would ever be able to fill the hole Anne had left behind. What would happen if these kittens made it worse? And, would he just be replacing her? Like she could ever be replaced. 

What happened when these kittens grew up and died too and left him living for weeks in a world of grey?

A whisper of “don’t steal pain from the future” floats through his mind. 

Ilya’s voice was small, he bit his lip. “I am sure they will be fine without us, if you cannot.”

Suddenly, he remembered her when she was that small. He remembered her amber eyes reflecting the moonlight, sleeping with her on his chest. She remembers the absolute and utter joy of her, throughout her whole life. He remembers how good it felt, to be told he had been her hero. 

Would it be the worst thing if he tried, just tried, to be a hero again?

***

Troy led them to the room where the kittens were staying. Chiron was being taken on a big, long walk. He’d needed a lot of them recently. He was usually such a calm dog, Ilya couldn’t imagine him being distressed.

Secretly, he hoped Shane said yes. Secretly, he hoped Shane smiled the way he used to. Secretly, he hoped Shane would repeat cat facts again, telling Ilya ones he already knew, over and over. 

The kittens were in a box. Shane gasped at the look of it, of the reminder. Ilya wondered if Shane might just run out of the room. 

Instead, Shane took cautious steps over to the box and peered inside. 

Two small black cats, two girls, laid on blankets. They were fast asleep. 

Shane’s heart beat hard in his chest. All of it wanted to explode out of him, how much he missed her, how much he loved her.

One of the kittens opened their eyes and looked at him, green eyes in stark contrast to black fur. 

He reached down without thinking and pet the kitten exactly where Anne liked to be pet. The kitten shut their eyes. 

Troy and Ilya held their breath. 

Shane grinned and lifted the kitten out of the box, holding her to his chest. She had a pink collar on, she was older than Anne had been. She was bigger than her sister. 

Shane reached into the box and pulled out the second kitten, holding them together, pulling them into his body. 

Of course, tears came, but laughter did too. One of them fell asleep in his hand. The other desperately tried to escape to explore, Shane didn’t let her. He sat cross legged and placed her in his lap. She tottered around, falling over, getting fresh claws stuck in his jeans. 

Ilya came and sat next to him. Troy had vanished, giving them space.

“What do you think, pretty Shane?” Ilya asked. Shane’s throat felt tight. How lovely these two were, would it be okay to start again? “I think she would be happy, I think she wanted you to be happy.”

He hadn’t realised he’d said that out loud, but he knew it was true. 

He nodded, turned to his husband, put the sleeping kitten into Ilya’s hands, and kissed his cheek. 

That night, the kittens had slept in a basket in the living room. On their sofa, Ilya and Shane fell asleep with Anya between them.

At one point, he didn’t think it was possible, but it was a good day for 31 year old Shane Hollander-Rozanov after all.