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When Ilya was young, he used to wonder what it must feel like to have a place that feels like a safe haven.
He’s not sure he even had that at home, and certainly not after his mom’s death. His father was a harsh man, always angry. There was never a compliment, but Ilya always knew when a remark was coming. Always about his shortcomings. Always about how he embarrassed the family name.
When he met Shane, he realized just how different things were. Shane came from a small family, but it was clear that both of his parents were proud of him and loved him beyond belief. Ilya remembers so vividly watching them at the parties before the draft, and how genuinely thrilled they were for their son.
He tried not to be jealous about it. But he was 18 and his dad was speaking to him on the side about how he embarrassed the family for speaking out of turn, and he wonders what it would have been like to have both of his parents there, surrounding him with love and excitement about his childhood dreams about to come true.
Back then, Ilya never thought he’d have that. Now, as the season has come to an end and exit interviews have been completed, he finds himself packing up the car for another summer at the cottage, and Shane is his husband.
Together, they have a 3 year old daughter, Poppy, who has dark curls and a hilarious personality, and somehow is the perfect blend of both of them despite being biologically Shane’s.
They have Anya, who’s nearing 10 and still has youthful moments as if she was a puppy. She’s also faithful to Ilya to a fault (he pretends it’s not because he’s the only one who feeds her from the table. Shane lets it slide).
Yuna and David live 25 minutes away, and dinners that he had with them shifted into family dinners once Shane was traded, only to be expanded upon Poppy’s arrival.
He has all of them and family routines, and it’s the family he’d always watched and wondered what it must have felt like to be that loved.
From the moment Yuna and David knew just how ingrained Ilya was in Shane’s life, they welcomed him without a second thought. They were the ones to initiate the weekly dinners when Ilya was first traded to Ottawa. They helped them move into the house he and Shane bought when Shane was traded. When Ilya broke his leg blocking a shot, they brought over food and spent time with him and made sure he was okay when he couldn’t do as much for himself.
Ilya never felt like he deserved any of it. But even now, married for years and heading toward the end of their careers, he looked at Shane as if he hung the moon and realized he was everything he ever needed.
Not the accolades, or the Stanley Cups, or the validation from his father, who died not even remembering who his son was.
It was always Shane.
They went public with their relationship prematurely, when they were tipped off by their management that there were photos of them at the NHL Awards getting cozy on a rooftop after the ceremony. The two, fearful of having their own sexualities torn from them, wrote a statement and published a carousel of photos from over the year, announcing their relationship.
It broke the internet. Reddit threads blew up with the news, conspiracy theories flew back and forth on Twitter, and Instagram and TikTok became a mess of edits.
The two of them shut their phones down for anything unnecessary until the end of the summer.
They’d gotten married in an intimate ceremony at the cottage nearly four years ago with only their closest friends and Shane’s parents in attendance. It was perfect, everything they both could’ve wanted, and suddenly, life didn’t feel so daunting.
For the most part, they have the league’s support. They’ve both landed on the Centaurs, who are adamant in their support for the two of them both as players and as husbands. The fans have been welcoming, and their teammates are willing to step up for them whenever needed.
A year after settling in to Ottawa and playing on the same team, the two began working with a surrogate to have their first child. Brianna was young and so incredibly kind, and the three of them hit it off from first meeting. The process felt long and arduous, but nothing made it feel more worth it than when Poppy arrived on a winter evening after a long west coast road trip, wailing in the delivery room.
Shane cradled her in his arms, shushing her quietly as if he’d done this a million times before, and Ilya could practically feel his heart grow a million sizes. When Shane placed her in his arms softly, using his free hand to wipe his tears, Ilya couldn't tear his gaze away, watching her yawn and then settle, breathing softly.
The little girl in his arms was his. A product of the love he has with the boy who said hello to him at World Juniors all those years ago, who loved him through every difficult moment and every happy moment.
On the night she was born, Yuna and David showed up at the hospital with tears in their eyes. They helped them transition home, wager through the newborn years, and talked them through every milestone and scary moment with Poppy as she grew old.
Now, three years later, she’s all personality and keeps them entertained and on their toes. She’s perfect, Ilya thinks, and most nights as he rocks her to sleep (despite Shane’s worry that they’re making her too codependent), he marvels at her perfect lips and curls and the way she rests on him as if he can protect her from anything, and tries not to cry.
Now, Ilya rides in the passenger seat while Shane navigates out of Ottawa and back up toward the cottage for the summer. His wedding ring gleams in the sunshine on the drive, and Poppy is tucked softly in her seat, her legs swinging as she stares out the window, snacks and her sippy cup in the cupholder. Anya stretches across the seats beside Poppy, panting and happy, blissfully unaware of the car ride ahead of them.
They have soft music playing, and there’s a sense of peace that falls over him as he thinks about time slowing down and the cottage drawing him out of his own head.
13 year old Ilya could have never dreamed of this life.
21 year old Ilya would’ve been convinced that they’d still be closeted.
36 year old Ilya is living his dream, and as he grabs his husband’s hand on the console and squeezes, he watches the city drift off in the rearview mirror, the buildings rolling into fields as they make their way to his favorite place in the world.
–
Retirement, Ilya finds, is not the easiest topic to bring up.
He knows it’s not on Shane’s radar. From the minute their season ended in a gut-wrenching game 6 against Philadelphia a few weeks ago, Shane had been talking about the next season and adjustments that needed to be made.
Ilya had made peace with how intense Shane was about hockey. He had never seen anyone as passionate about anything as Shane was with the sport, and in the ensuing days after the loss and the exit interviews, he would slowly pack up their things for the cottage while Shane sat on the sofa beside Poppy while she watched her show on the TV, iPad in hand and analyzing every shift like his life depended on it.
Shane still had two years left on his contract. Ilya would become an unrestricted free agent on July 1, but Ottawa had already been putting plans in motion to keep him there, and the league had an unofficial understanding that Ottawa was the priority, and Ilya wasn’t considering anywhere else.
Ilya loved hockey. He was naturally good at it in a way that most people envied, but it appeased his father and gave them status, and so he stuck with it. Most kids dreamed about being in the NHL. They dreamed about scoring a goal in front of a sold-out crowd, the place shaking with excitement. They dreamed about hoisting the Stanley Cup and having a parade in the city.
Ilya achieved all of that, but he didn’t dream about any of it. He dreamed about a Visa that could turn into permanent residency. He dreamed about safety. He dreamed about a life where he didn’t have to go back to Russia again if he didn’t want to.
In the end, he got what he wanted. On the day his Canadian passport arrived in the mail, he cried, taking a million photos of it and sending it to anyone in his contacts, a beaming smile on his face when they all replied one by one. He was only mildly upset when it refused to stay underneath the magnet on the fridge, but Shane let him display it on the island of their home for a few weeks, and that felt like a victory.
Hockey was fun, and he was good at it, but it wasn’t his entire life like it was Shane’s. He’d had a few injuries over the last few years - nothing serious, but harsh enough that as the season drags on and more players get banged up, it would bring up old soreness that took longer to feel better. The end of the season always dragged along, and while playing in the playoffs would never get old, he wasn’t always that upset when the season came to a close and he could rest his body.
When Poppy was born, hockey seemed to slip further down in his mind. Road trips got harder and harder, and while Poppy would join them on the particularly long trips, her nanny, Nina, coming along for the ride, leaving Poppy as she pouted, tears welling in her eyes, cut right through him.
He and Shane hadn’t missed her first steps or her first words. They were home for her first day of preschool, and there’s no milestone that he thinks they missed because they were away.
He knows he should be grateful for that.
But Poppy is getting older. Preschool will quickly turn into her first day of kindergarten, and Ilya knows that’s just the beginning of big milestones they might miss. She was growing up so quickly, and they had figured it out so far, but it would only get more complicated the older she got.
Plus, there was the thought about having more kids.
Thinking about all of this and his impending free agency, Ilya, for the first time in his career, let himself ponder retirement. About a slower way of life. No more mandatory practices or long road trips. Just supporting Shane as he finished the rest of his career, staying at home with Poppy and any future children, and continuing to work with the foundation or getting into coaching.
He planned to bring up retirement on their first night. But the first night was always sacred, and they didn’t do much besides bring their bags in the house, cook dinner, put Poppy to bed, and have sex until the stars were hung high and bright in the sky, and that didn’t feel like the right time.
So he let the time drag on. A day turned into a week, which turned into two. The thought nagged at him, and as free agency inched closer, Ilya knew he was running out of time to tell Shane.
Incidentally, he decided the first rainy evening of the summer is the perfect time.
“I have been thinking,” Ilya says into the silence of the room. They’d spent the evening after putting Poppy to bed on their phones, legs draped over each other, the fireplace roaring as the rain pattered against the roof. “I am free agent. But I think I am ready to retire.”
Shane looks up from his phone. Ilya watches the screen dim, and then lock. “What do you mean you think you want to retire?” he asks, phone still gripped in his hand. “I thought you were thinking about a short-term deal?”
Ilya shrugs. He sets his phone in his lap, letting it get lost in the blanket he’d draped over himself. “I did say that, yes,” he says carefully. “But I am tired, my love. And I have never loved hockey as much as you.”
“So what?” Shane says. Ilya watches him take a breath, trying not to work himself up. “Okay, so you never loved hockey as much as me. But you still enjoy it.”
“I do, yes,” he agrees. “But I do not want to be the player who plays for 80 years and everyone wishes would retire. I was not as good this year, everyone knows that. I do not want to be here too long.”
Shane processes for a moment. “Do you think that I’m overstaying?”
“No, not at all,” Ilya says, his face spreading into a smile. “You are still top player in the league. You do not get hurt. You are invincible, Shane Hollander. You will play for one million years.”
Shane huffs out a laugh. “But you won’t.”
“No, I will not,” he nods. “I am ready. I think it is time. I have won everything, moya lyubov. There is nothing else I want to do in the game. I have given it everything.”
Shane swallows. He sets his phone on the coffee table, untangles his limbs from Ilya’s, and crawls across the sofa. He nestles himself against Ilya’s chest, head resting where he can hear his heartbeat, strong and steady.
Ilya leans down, kissing the top of his head. “I love hockey. I love to play with you. But I am ready to retire.”
Shane lets his eyes slip closed, nodding. “Okay.”
–
Shane, much to Ilya’s surprise, doesn’t bring up the retirement conversation for a few days. They live in the kind of bliss at the cottage that comes every year, spending lazy days in the lake, lounging on the dock and perching on rocks as they watch the sun dip below the horizon each evening.
Ilya takes Poppy swimming every day, watching her find the courage to jump off the dock and into his arms over and over, her laughter echoing across the water. They nap on the lounge chairs out on the dock, have dinner with David and Yuna, watch movies and make s’mores, and it’s the kind of summer that Ilya wants to bottle up and keep forever.
He brings it up again one morning, when time stretched into early afternoon and the two had decided to make smoothies while Poppy napped on the sofa. The sun was high in the sky, and David had texted asking if they wanted to have a boat night, which Ilya knew Poppy was going to love.
“I’ve been thinking about the whole retirement thing,” Shane finally says, fingers tracing the moles on Ilya’s torso as they curl up on the chaise lounge together, right near Poppy in case she needs them. He feels Ilya’s breathing change, more uneven, more nervous. “I’m not ready to retire.”
“I do not want you to,” Ilya says, his voice thick with sleep.
“I know you don’t,” Shane replies quickly. “But I never really thought about hockey and the NHL without you in it. And if I keep going, what does that mean for you? You’ll just stay home now?”
Ilya huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I will become WAG with Jackie and other wives. We will have the best jackets and have girls nights and watch all your games,” he says. “You will be so jealous that you’re not there.”
“I have no doubts that you’ll do this,” Shane smiles. He presses his lips to Ilya’s torso. “I just don’t want you to make this decision and regret it later.”
“I will not,” Ilya insists. “I am ready for next steps in life. I will focus more on the foundation with your mom. Run more camps during school breaks. I’ll be home with Poppy instead of Nina being with her so often. We will do crafts and she will go to preschool and we won’t have to rush to make it to her on time,” he says. His hands find Shane’s hair, and he tugs gently, grounding him. “Maybe I will become coach. Win many, many trophies and make you jealous.”
He takes a breath, shifting slightly. “I am ready for more kids. Maybe. I don’t know,” he says quietly. “But I am ready to think about it.”
Shane stills, tilting his head back to look up at him. “You want another kid?”
“Mm, I think so,” Ilya replies after a moment. He shrugs. “I think Poppy will be a good big sister, and I want her to have siblings. But we have not talked about it. So if you don’t, it is not dealbreaker.”
Shane nods. He stares at Ilya for a moment, and then, as if he’s unable to physically look at Ilya when he speaks, he rests his head in the crook of his shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. We’re not getting any younger, and Poppy is at a good age where starting over doesn’t feel like the end of the world.”
Ilya presses his cheek to Shane’s temple. “We do not have to make decision right now. It can be later,” he murmurs. Shane presses his forehead to Ilya’s neck, feeling the vibrations. “I am very, very happy with just Poppy. If she was the only kid we had, I would be the proudest papa in the whole world. But I just think that maybe having more would be fun.”
Shane turns his head to press into Ilya’s skin, and Ilya can feel him smile. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”
“A little bit,” Ilya smiles. “And Poppy told me she wants a sibling.”
Shane laughs. “You always give into her,” he murmurs, kissing up Ilya’s neck, along his jaw, and then his lips softly. “I love you,” he whispers. “And of course I’ll think about it. Of course.”
Ilya pulls Shane closer, relief flooding through him, as he flips over to hover over him, kissing him softly.
–
“I have decided to retire.”
It’s a startling thing to hear as soon as she answers a FaceTime, Svetlana finds, as Ilya lays on a lounge chair outside the cottage while Shane showers.
“I’m sorry, you what?” she asks, sitting up on the sofa, resting her head in her hands. “Did you fall and hit your head?”
“No,” he shakes his head. He furrows his brow, as if she’s being serious. “I am done. I am free agent, and I will tell them that I am stepping away. Ilya Rozanov has played his last game.”
Svetlana sighs. “Ilyusha, what is wrong with you?” she asks. “You are still one of the best players in the league. Are you sure this is what you want?”
Ilya pulls off his sunglasses. “I am very sure, Sveta. I have thought about it for a long time,” he says, and she notices how he looks almost distressed that she’d even contemplate trying to convince him otherwise. “Poppy is getting so big now, and we are missing so much. She deserves to not have to travel all the time with us.”
Svetlana shifts on the other side of the screen. “What did Shane say?”
“He was confused, but he understands now. And he supports whatever I want to do,” Ilya says. He runs his fingers through his hair. “I just feel like it’s the right time. I do not want to be old man skating out there when I can’t keep up.”
Svetlana frowns. “I don’t think you were ever that, Ilyusha,” she says softly. “You do not want one final season? One goodbye where you know it’s the end?”
Ilya smiles. “No, is not for me,” he says softly. Maybe in the past that was him. Maybe he would’ve wanted the fanfare, the last road trips and handshakes with teams as they play their final games against each other. Maybe he’d want the spotlight, one last chance to set records. But not anymore.
“I think maybe I knew this was the last season,” he admits after a minute. “Going away got harder. Playing started to hurt more. I cannot keep going out there when I have Poppy at home.”
Svetlana is quiet for a moment. Ilya watches her, bracing himself for her to argue or try to convince him that he should play one more year. But instead she smiles, running her fingers through her hair, and nods. “If you’re going to be home now, what are you going to do to fill your time?”
Ilya smirks. “I don’t know. Be home with Poppy, join the WAG group, maybe get into coaching. I will help Yuna with the foundation more. We also talked about having more kids,” he shrugs. “I think maybe it will just be nice to not have to be away so much. And I can just watch Shane again instead of playing with him.”
“Tetya Sveta will spend lots of time in Ottawa too, yes? Hanging out with us while Shane is on road trips?”
Svetlana giggles on the other end. “Yes, solnyshko, I will come visit all the time and we will have so much fun.”
“Da, we will,” Ilya nods.
“I’m proud of you, Ilyusha,” she says softly after a moment. “I know you love hockey, but you love your family more. And even though I will be so sad to not watch you anymore, I know you’ll be happier at home.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, too worried to say anything else. He swallows around his tears, grateful as Poppy runs in and joins him on the sofa, taking the phone to recap their first few weeks at the cottage while Ilya runs his fingers through her hair.
–
Before having kids, Ilya used to think it was crazy that his teammates spoke in detail about potential trades or moving to another team during free agency with their kids.
It wasn’t that he thought kids shouldn’t be part of the process, but he always watched and marveled at how much they seemed to take into consideration what they wanted as well, when most of the time it was largely out of their hands.
But now, sitting on the back patio of the cottage with Poppy curled up in his lap, Shane’s sweatshirt draped over her, he thinks he gets it.
He spent the afternoon asking Shane how they should go about telling her. Poppy loved Nina, and while road trips took her away from preschool, she loved being able to be on them when she could. This would be a big change for her, too, and Ilya thinks he’d cross the ends of the Earth to be sure she’s comfortable with everything as well.
“I have something really important to tell you, malysh,” Ilya says softly. In front of them, the fire roars, wood crackling as Shane comes back to sit beside him.
“What is it?” she asks softly. Her fingers pull at her bottom lip as she cranes her neck to look up at him.
“You know how Daddy and I play hockey and we travel so much and sometimes we leave you at home?” he asks. Slowly, Poppy nods, settling her head back on his chest. “How would you feel if Papa doesn’t play hockey anymore, and I stay home with you all the time?”
“You not play hockey?” she asks softly, and Ilya rests his chin on top of her head.
“Right,” he nods. “I love playing hockey, but I want to stay home with you more. We can be together all the time.”
Poppy hums as if she’s contemplating the offer. Shane smiles, reaching over to adjust the blanket draped over their laps. “And Daddy keep playing hockey?”
Ilya smiles, smoothing his hand over her hair. Her buns are falling out, evidence of a long day spent on the lake and running around outside. He’s always found the way she speaks about hockey so endearing - she’d been around the league for so long, and yet she doesn’t quite understand the gravity of who her parents are and what they achieved.
They just play hockey.
“Yes, baby, I’ll keep playing hockey,” Shane answers for him. “I’ll still be on the team, and you and Papa can come on trips with me sometimes like you used to, but now when I go away, Papa will still be here and you won’t be left with Nana and Grandpa or Nina.”
Poppy yawns, burrowing her head against Ilya’s chest further. The fire flickers, and Shane pokes at it, keeping it alive.
“I like that idea,” she says softly after a minute, curling her fingers around the hem of Ilya’s sweatshirt. “Want Papa here and Daddy to play. And me still come to games.”
Ilya tilts his head back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What a perfect idea, malysh,” he whispers, pulling her closer. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”
Against his chest, Poppy grins. “Ya tebya lyublyu too, Papa,” she says back, broken Russian and all.
Ilya smiles, reaching to take Shane’s hand as the fire dims in front of them, the breeze rustling through the trees as the last of the sun sets and the crickets chirp to life.
–
Evenings at the cottage were Ilya’s favorite.
After putting Poppy to bed, he and Shane fall into the routine they’ve had since they first started living together - cleaning up the kitchen, curling up on the sofa to watch a show or movie, and then slow, quiet sex in their room, savoring their time together.
Tonight was no different. He’d fallen into this routine, Shane by his side just like he had been so many times before. When they finish, a thick sheen of sweat covering their bodies, Ilya lets Shane nestle into the crook of his neck that feels made just for him, his arm wrapping around him while Ilya presses a kiss to the top of Shane’s head.
The room is quiet. It’d been drizzling on and off in the evening, and the remnants of rain tap against the gutters, echoing through the open window. If Ilya lets himself relax enough he can hear the lake lapping at the rocks softly, the sounds that had put him to sleep so many times since the first summer he arrived here all those years ago.
“I feel good about my decision,” Ilya whispers after a while, almost too scared to break the silence. “I love hockey. I love playing with you. But I am ready to be done.”
Shane hums against his chest. “I can tell you’ve thought a lot about it,” he says softly, tracing patterns through the smattering of moles on Ilya’s chest. “And Poppy is so excited to have you home. I know this is a good thing, I just -”
Ilya waits a beat, then nudges him. “You what, moya lyubov?” he asks quietly.
“It’s selfish,” he sighs. “I’m just going to miss playing with you,” he says.
“I will miss it too, Shane,” Ilya says. He presses his lips to Shane’s hair, kissing softly. “But now I will be in the stands with our little girl. We will have big competition to see who is your biggest fan and I will win because I have been a fan longer.”
Shane turns, burying his face in Ilya’s chest. “You can’t fight our three year old daughter on who is my biggest fan, Ilya,” he murmurs, kissing his chest softly.
“I can,” Ilya smirks. He’s leaning into it now, teasing Shane, and Shane is loving every second of it. “She will be so sad when I say I am Daddy’s biggest fan, but is true!”
Shane laughs, hitting Ilya’s chest. “You’re going to be a nightmare retired,” he murmurs, resting his head back against his chest softly.
The silence stretches for a moment, and Ilya’s content with it. He traces patterns on Shane’s back, breathing slow as he lets his eyes slowly close.
“I’m happy for you, you know,” Shane whispers. “I’m sad we won’t play together, but you’re ready to retire and be a dad and we can talk about having more kids and you just being here.”
Ilya hums, pressing his lips back to Shane’s head. “And when you are ready to retire, me and our million children will be so happy to welcome you.”
Shane smirks, pressing a lazy kiss against his peck. “We are not having one million children. Two, maybe three at the most.”
“Okay,” Ilya smiles. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Shane repeats back, curling closer.
“I have a meeting with Harris in the morning,” Ilya murmurs. “He will help me with my statement and when we should announce it. And then it will be out there and we can move on.” He takes a breath, looking down at Shane. “But right now, I just want to fuck you.”
“So romantic,” Shane smirks, smashing his lips against Ilya’s anyway.
It’s the kind of evening Ilya used to dream about. Lazy, slow sex, quietly drifting off to sleep with his husband in his arms, their little girl asleep in her bed down the hall. At the cottage that started as Shane’s but became his as well.
He feels Shane drift off against him, slow, even breaths warming his skin, and lets a tear fall from his own eyes.
This is what he always wanted.
–
It turns out that the hardest part was telling Yuna and David.
He decided to be casual about it, bringing it up when they were at their house for Sunday lunch. He sat on the back deck while Poppy ran across the backyard with Anya, giggling as they fought over the tennis ball she’d been playing fetch with.
“I am going to announce my retirement tomorrow,” he says, taking a sip of his vodka as he leans back in the chair. “Harris helped me with my social media post. He will post it on the Centaurs social media pages, too.”
Ilya can’t bring himself to look to the side. He can feel David and Yuna staring at him, shocked more than anything. The silence stretches between the four of them for a while, not uncomfortable, but in a way that Ilya thinks he may cry if someone doesn’t say something.
“Ilya, honey,” Yuna finally says. “I take it you’re absolutely sure?”
“Da,” Ilya nods, smiling. “I have thought about it for very long time. I told Shane weeks ago. I have had too many injuries the last few years and they hurt. I want to be home with Poppy. I want to have more kids. I want to be able to play and run around with them. I do not want to feel like old man who is only playing because he was good. So instead I will be home and I will help more with the foundation and it will all be okay.”
Shane reaches over, squeezing his hand. “Before you ask, I’m not retiring with him. I feel like I still have a few good years left in me, and Ilya wants me to keep playing. So for now, I’m not retiring.”
Ilya turns, watches relief wash over Yuna, and grins. “You were worried.”
Yuna smiles. “Was not,” she smiles. “I just want to be sure you’re both doing what makes you happy. And it seems like you have.”
“We will miss watching you play, Ilya,” David chimes in. “But it will be nice to have you here more. And I’m sure you, of all people, will find a way to still be involved in the game.”
“Ah, maybe in a few years,” Ilya agrees.
“Grandpa, come help!” Poppy squeals from the garden, and David smiles, standing and walking down to indulge his granddaughter. Reluctantly, Shane follows, chasing Poppy as she squeals, dissolving into giggles as Anya chases them.
Ilya takes a sip of his drink. “You can be sad, Yuna,” he says softly. “Sometimes I am, too.”
Yuna stretches across, taking his hand. “I’m proud of you, Ilya. I’ll miss watching you play, but when you said it, you never looked so at peace. I can put aside my own feelings if it means you’ll be happy.”
Ilya nods, swallowing. His throat feels tight, and for the first time in a while, he feels like he’s going to cry. “Hockey gave me everything,” he says softly, his voice wobbling. “I won the Stanley Cup, I got to play with Shane and marry him, and I became Canadian citizen.” He pauses, taking a breath. “But I am ready to just be Papa. To be home with Poppy. And be Shane’s biggest fan. Already told him I would be the best WAG.”
Yuna tips her head back, laughing. “You will be,” she agrees. She turns her head, looking at him. “I know you don’t like being sentimental,” she says, putting her free hand up to stop him. “But you have been through so much, and not once have you ever complained. At least to us,” she smiles. “I know hockey wasn’t always your favorite.”
Nodding, Ilya sighs. “I have never loved it the way Shane loves it.”
“I know,” Yuna agrees. “I’m not sure many people do,” she quips. “But you still did everything to make teams better, even when people didn’t think highly of you as a person. And even though I may not have been your biggest fan in the beginning,” she smirks, beaming when Ilya laughs, “I hope you know we are your biggest fans now.”
Ilya squeezes her hand. “I know,” he whispers. “Thank you for letting me be part of your family.”
Beside him, Yuna sniffles. “Oh honey,” she whispers. “Loving you has become the easiest thing I’ve done. Look how happy you’ve made my son. Look at what you’ve given me,” she nods towards the garden, where Poppy has convinced Shane and David to lay with her and look at the clouds. “All I’ve ever wanted was for him to be happy, that he’d find a life outside of hockey, too. And oh, Ilya, this is more than I could’ve ever dreamed.”
Ilya sucks in a breath, nodding. “He gave that all to me, too.”
“I know,” Yuna whispers.
Ilya knows she sees him crying, furiously rubbing at his eyes as he watches Poppy climbing to lay on Shane’s chest, her legs stretched out to nudge David’s side.
He’s grateful she doesn’t say anything.
–
IlyaRozanov81
After 15 years, more than 1,000 games, and three Stanley Cup championships, I have made the decision to retire.
Hockey has given me everything. Starting as a young boy in Russia dreaming of playing in the best league in the world, I have been so lucky to get everything I used to think was impossible. But it is time to move on to a new chapter, being a full-time dad to a three year old who does not care about her papa breaking records and is just excited to have one of us home.
Thank you to the Boston Raiders organization for drafting me and helping me achieve my dreams by winning the Stanley Cup. Thank you to the Centaurs organization for welcoming me with open arms and giving me a place to call home for the rest of my life.
Thank you to all of the fans who were the best no matter where I went. I am so lucky to have had all of you with me all these years without ever getting sick of me :)))))
To all of my teammates throughout the years, you made coming to the rink so fun. I loved playing with all of you (even you, @HaydenPike), and am so grateful that we all got to be teammates over the years.
Most of all, to my husband, Shane Hollander. Hockey gave me so many things, but the best thing it gave me was you. Thank you for being the best husband, very calm about this decision, and for letting me get my way so many times. I know it was hard being the second best hockey player in the house, but I am so lucky that I got to play with you :))))))
Today I shift to be a full-time dad and my true calling as part of the WAG group :))))) Hockey will never get rid of me, and I can’t wait to watch in the stands now along all of you.
Thank you, hockey. See you later!
Ilya Rozanov #81
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Oddly, Ilya thought watching from the stands would be harder.
He purposely avoided preseason, sticking to listening from the other room while Yuna watched or lying awake in bed while Shane recapped the away game with exact details it was as if he could picture it in his mind.
But the season opener was at home, and Poppy was thrilled it was hockey season and she could be back at games to watch Shane and play with her friends, and Ilya knew he needed to rip the bandaid off.
They sat in the suite for the players' families, Poppy wearing her Hollander jersey that eclipsed her hands, still far too big but Ilya insisted she’d grow into at some point this season. He had mastered French braids over the summer and proudly put them in her hair at her request, and he watched as the Pike girls greeted her at the door, spritzing glitter across her hair while Poppy smiled giddily at the attention.
As the lights dimmed and the team was introduced, Ilya thought he’d miss it. But he stands there, Poppy on his hip, headphones on her ears as she joins the crowd in screaming when Shane is announced, and all he feels is pride.
He watches Shane score the opening goal of the season, Poppy leaning against the chairs as she jumps up and down celebrating with the Pike kids, and cheers louder than anyone else. When Shane looks up, he swears they lock eyes, and it’s enough.
He’s positive it won’t always be easy. There will be games he thinks maybe he’ll have to step away, or times at home where he won’t be able to watch because the desire to be out on the ice will be too overwhelming.
But right now, standing beside Jackie Pike, his little girl on his hip while his husband still played the game he loved that brought them together, all he feels is peace.
It feels like home.