Chapter Text
SUNDAY
Shane was staring at the ceiling of their bedroom. The sun was peeking through the blinds at just the right angle where he could see the tiny dust particles float in the air. Moving with only the purpose to showcase that they existed and needed to dance. Ilya shifted slightly next to him. Shane looked over at his peaceful sleeping—still so handsome after all these years; still Ilya, still his. His face softly colored in sunrise tints; he looked like an oil painting, aglow with soft hues of yellow and orange across his cheeks and into his curls. The sunrise palette helped his gently graying hairs look golden blonde again. Ilya stirred and transfixed his eyes on Shane, who was looking at Ilya already with a dopey smile. Shane wondered what kind of day he’d get with him today.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Ilya’s voice came out ragged and groggy but accompanied with a flirty grin.
“Good morning, Ilya.” Shane’s smile grew wider and he leaned over and peppered Ilya’s face with kisses. Ilya grabbed onto Shane’s face and rubbed his thumb over his sun-kissed freckles.
“So pretty in the morning.”
A good day then.
They headed to the farmers market that was open only on Sundays. Shane loved walking through and picking up fresh vegetables to cook with for the week and he loved when Ilya is up for it. Ilya mentioned in the car on the way there that Shane was driving too slow and Shane insisted he was doing the speed limit. He couldn’t even pretend to wipe the lovesick grin he had on his face when Ilya rolled his eyes at him and stuck his tongue out in jest.
“Ohh, we can stop at Diane’s Pies.” Ilya said like it was a given. Except it wasn’t. Diane’s had shut down 2 years ago when the owner retired and closed shop to go travel the world. Shane gripped the wheel a bit tighter.
“Actually, she’s closed up shop to travel, so we can’t today.” Shane offered. Ilya pouted and crinkled his eyebrows.
“Ah. Okay.” Ilya seemed to absorbed the information well enough, even though he seemed confused by it.
They had a fun time checking out all the market stands. Ilya spent a fortune buying pastries from a woman selling apple cider donuts and danishes, having accepted and retained that Diane’s was closed while Shane gathered a bunch of vegetables and even some fresh mozzarella from the cheese monger.
“I was thinking Italian tonight, for dinner.” Shane said when he walked back up to Ilya as he was handing over the money for the baked goods. Ilya looked over Shane’s purchases.
“Ah, sounds good. Chicken Parm? We should invite your parents over.” Ilya gave a small back rub to Shane.
“Uhh, yeah, we can go over to their house and cook it. They like when we come to them. We have too many steps leading into the house.” Shane didn’t say it as if Ilya forgot, just said it as a fact. Ilya nodded and agreed.
“Yes, they hate the porch steps. That time David almost tripped all the way down, remember that?” Ilya asked and Shane sported a small grin and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah I do. Okay, I’ll call them and we’ll do dinner tonight with them. They’ll love that.” Shane started leading them out of the market and Ilya swung his free arm around Shane’s shoulders and planted a kiss to his temple.
“Da moy lyubimy. I will bring donuts along too and share.”
“I hope so, you bought 12.”
“13 actually, baker’s dozen.”
Shane gave a judging stare and Ilya laughed.
“Was the best deal!”
Shane and Ilya piled back into the car and Shane drove them home. They passed through the city at the appropriate speed limit as Ilya looked out the window.
“City really has changed over the years.” Ilya said as they passed a new skyscraper being built. Shane nodded and looked over at the building, then to Ilya,
“Yeah, same city, but…different. Still Ottawa.”
“Mmm.” Ilya agreed barely.
When Shane and Ilya got home, Shane packed the veggies and cheese in the fridge and Ilya headed out for the back deck patio with a glass of water. He loved looking out at the river, especially on a day as nice as today; slight warm breeze, partly sunny, birds singing. Shane watched him from the kitchen through the wall-to-wall windows as Ilya took a seat and got comfy; his curls gently swaying in the wind.
When Shane joined him with his own drink, he took a seat in the chair right next to Ilya’s and swung his hand over. Ilya took it without thinking and squeezed, then looked over.
“Calm easy Sunday, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Shane said but he was staring at Ilya when he said it, not the view. Ilya swung his head to meet Shane’s stare.
“You are very pretty.”
Shane couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah? You tell me that every day.”
“Well, it’s true every day.” Ilya said simply. “Did you call your parents and tell them about dinner?”
“Oh yeah-no, let me go do that.” Shane smiled wide at Ilya and got up, patted his shoulder as he went to pass by. “Good reminder, thanks.” Ilya quickly patted the hand that Shane has on his shoulder and then let him walk back inside. Ilya decided to go back inside himself after a few minutes. When he walked in, Shane was still on the phone,
“Yupp, 5 sounds good, give us time to cook it there. Alright. Love you. I will, I’ll tell him, love you. Bye.” Shane hung up the phone and smiled at Ilya as he approached the kitchen island stool and sat.
“All good?”
“Yes. They say hello. They are excited for us to come over and do dinner. I told them it was your idea.”
“Did you? Giving me son-in-law points, hmm?” Ilya teased.
“They love you more than me, have for years, what are you talking about?”
Ilya got up from his stool and sauntered over to be in Shane’s embrace.
“Hmm, I think I am favorite, yes.”
“So humble.” Shane joked. Ilya leaned in and kissed him, tender and sweet but with a lot of intention behind it.
“Do you want to call Sophie today?” Shane asked. He looked scared to ask, but Ilya’s eyes lit up.
“Yes, I should. See what she’s up to in big bad New York today.” Ilya slapped Shane’s ass and went to grab his phone. Shane breathed a huge sigh of relief, watching Ilya dial up Sophie to chat. He took a place on the sofa and got comfortable. Shane overheard Ilya start the conversation,
“How’s my favorite daughter?” Ilya asked Sophie on the other end and Shane took off to put up a load of laundry.
Shane plopped down next to Ilya on the sofa as he listened to Ilya chat with Sophie.
“Want to say hi to your dad?” Ilya asked over the phone and then he quickly handed it off to Shane. Ilya kissed his cheek quickly and whispered ‘bathroom’ and took off upstairs. Shane watched him carefully take the steps until he was out of sight.
“Hello Sophie. New York being New York?”
“Yes dad, very New York here in New York. How’s Papa doing?” She quickly asked.
“You just spoke to him.” Shane said plainly. “Good. Good day.”
“Yeah, seems so. So… is he doing better?” She sounded impatient with questions.
“Yes Sophie, he’s fine and doing good.”
“I said better.”
Shane hesitated, “A bit. Slower than we’d hope, but still better. A bit.” Shane wanted to make it very clear to her. There was no miracle happening, nor would there ever be.
She seemed to settle to that. “Okay, good. I love talking to him.”
“I know. I tell him to call every time I can.” Shane started to get a bit misty eyed but he cleared it with blinking rapidly. “We’re going to dinner with your grans tonight. Should be nice.”
“That’s good. They love that.”
“We’ve been doing it pretty often.”
“And they complain?”
“Never.” Shane laughed. Ilya returned back down the steps and to the living room. When he sat down, he swung his arm around Shane’s and pulled him into his space. Shane put up no fight and leaned in then tapped the speakerphone.
“Now it’s both of us.” Shane announced to Sophie.
“So, you went to market today Papa said.” Sophie went on, “Did you get any donuts?”
Ilya jumped in,
“That’s my girl! See Shane, some of us in this family love sweet snacks.” Both Ilya and Sophie laughed on the phone as Shane just smiled and rolled his eyes.
“You are your Papa’s daughter.” Shane said in response.
“Guilty.” She claimed, but there was no guilt.
*
“Ilya honey!” Yuna threw her arms wide at Ilya towering into the foyer of their home and met her for a hug. Long hair gone silver gray, shorter in statue than she ever was, but still, she looked great for being in her mid-80’s.
“Yuna-Mom” He often called her, saying it quickly like one word.
She grabbed his face and smacked it gently. “So handsome as ever, jesus.”
“You are being kind; my hair is gray.”
“We’re all gray! But your curls, still so…” She smiled sweetly at him, “handsome.” Ilya kissed the top of her forehead. David came walking up with his cane and saw Ilya. They gave a quick and less firm hug and Ilya patted David’s shoulder and gave a wide grin,
“My favorite dad, how are we holding up?” Ilya loved to use that phrase.
“Good. Good. You’re looking sharp as ever. Feel good?” David asked with a twinkle in his eye and he held his cane on the hardwood floor to balance.
“Very good. Easy Sunday for Shane and I. Market, talked to Sophie, I cleaned up the garage a bit.”
“And now he’s going to help me cook us all dinner.” Shane tapped Ilya’s lower back and grinned and they took off for the kitchen to unload the groceries and start cooking.
“God, it’s always so good.” Ilya said as he took a bite of the steamy plate of parmesan. “Do I always make it this well?” He teased and laughed and Yuna gave a quiet laugh back,
“Yes you do! Better than David at this point, I think.”
“Hey!” David cut in, then he leaned over to Ilya, “Probably true.” and laughed.
They talked about market that morning. They talked about Sophie and New York. They went over house projects that needed done. Shane mentioned a podcast he was going to be doing with a few hockey legends coming up. Ilya talked about the gardening he wants to do next summer. It was pleasant. Homey. Routine.
When they got home as the sun was setting, near 8pm, Ilya slung off his jacket at the door and then crowded Shane as he locked it. Pushing him slightly up against the wall. Shane laughed and blushed, then spun around in place, putting a gentle hand to Ilya’s chest.
“Ilya.” Shane warned.
“Sweetheart.” Ilya took his hand and cupped Shane’s face, titled it upward for better access to his lips and kissed him. “I want to fuck you.”
“Wow. Nothing changes huh?” Shane had a hard time hiding his smile.
“With me, no? I am simple man. I see pretty husband in front of me, I want him.”
“You have him.” Shane assured.
“But I do not have the knees to carry him anymore, so…” Ilya backed away and grabbed Shane’s hand to lead him towards the stairs up to their bedroom.
“But you still have the hips to…” Shane teased and reconnected their lips briefly before they both laughed and walked hand in hand upstairs to bed.
It was a great day.
MONDAY
Shane was awake as the sun was peeking through the blinds at just the right angle where he could see the tiny dust particles float in the air. Moving with only the purpose to showcase that they existed and needed to dance. Ilya began to stir. Shane looked over with a lovesick smile and Ilya opened his eyes and looked at Shane. Shane wondered what kind of day he would get with him.
“Hello?” Ilya seemed surprise to see Shane next to him. “Hollander?”
Shane took just one second to set him for today.
“Hello Rozanov.” Shane replied back and gave a small smile.
“You are here?” Ilya looked around the room for clues.
“Yes, usually.” Shane shifted his angle slightly to turn and face Ilya more, sinking lower into the bed to meet his level.
“Usually? Are we…” Ilya didn’t know exactly what to say and Shane watched his face carefully. He seemed not overwhelmed, just curious. This was manageable.
“Together. A couple, yes.” Shane supplied. Ilya looked back at Shane’s face and studied it. Ilya took his hand up to Shane’s face and then rubbed his thumb against Shane’s freckles slowly and Shane fluttered at the careful grace he stroked them with.
“You are older looking.” Ilya said and Shane smirked.
“Gee thanks.” Shane laughed.
“Not an insult, you are still very pretty.” Ilya was now reassuring him.
“Yeah well, I am a bit older. You are too.” At that, Ilya retracted his hand and touched his own face then smiled.
“Are we…” Ilya looked around the room again.
“Married? Yes.” Shane answered. Ilya went a bit wide eyed at that admission and gulped.
“I married Shane Hollander?” He pointed to his own chest and said the fact as though he didn’t believe it. “You?” He pointed to Shane.
Shane smirked, “Yeah, years ago now. If that’s okay with you.”
Ilya took a second to absorb that then he slowly nodded and gave a small smile to Shane. Then shrugged,
“Of course. It must be. If that’s what you’re telling me.” Ilya didn’t ask a question but Shane knew how to continue this.
“That’s what I’m telling you. You’re my husband and I love you.” Hearing that softened Ilya’s face. Ilya reached for Shane’s face again and Shane this time, gently grabbed Ilya’s wrist while he stroked the freckles again.
“Yes, yes this I… know. I don’t know how I know but I feel I trust you.”
“Good. Because we have a great day planned and I was hoping you’d join me, since you trust me.” Shane winked and got out of bed and Ilya stripped the covers off himself. Ilya smirked, his face in a cloud of gathering data but accepting all he was told.
“Okay Hollander. Whatever you say.” When Shane walked around to Ilya’s side of the bed, Ilya grabbed at his arm and pulled him in, “You are important to me, yes? I can feel it.”
Shane nodded yes slowly and moved his hand up through Ilya’s curls then settled his hand to the back of his neck and bent over to give him a firm and quick kiss on the lips.
“Very important. How do you feel about dogs?”
Ilya’s eyes lit up and a huge smile grew across his face, all his teeth showing.
So, another good day then.
When Shane pulled up to the Drover Family Farm, he was greeted by Harris and Troy, already on the porch, drinking coffee. They waved at them as they both got out of the car.
“Hey you two. Rozanov is with me! I told him you had the best supply of dogs to play with.” Harris laughed loudly and got out of his chair slowly. Shane had texted Harris at 7am and gave him the rundown. Troy and Harris had been traveling most of the summer across Europe, but now that they were back, they were always up for hosting Shane and Ilya. Troy wanted Ilya over every day if he was honest.
“Boy, do I!” Harris exclaimed and met them both down off the four porch steps.
“Hello Ilya.” Harris smiled and Ilya smiled back.
“Hello…?” He gave a quick glance as if Shane would fill him in, but
“Harris.” Harris offered his hand and Ilya shook it and nodded. Repeating the name Harris inaudibly to himself.
“Shane said you own this apple orchard.” Ilya grinned and Troy then emerged and walked up behind Harris.
“Hey Ilya.” Troy said more somberly and with a small barely there smile.
“Barrett?” Ilya nodded and went to shake his hand too and Troy’s head perked up and Shane smiled.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Troy beamed.
“Yes, you play hockey.” Ilya looked back at Shane. “He plays for Toronto, remember?” Ilya said to Shane as Troy bit his lip and frowned somewhat at hearing that.
“Yeah, for a bit, then Ottawa. With us when we played. We’re all retired now.” Shane supplied and Ilya turned his head back to Troy and looked at him feeling guilty he didn’t remember that. Troy tried to put on a smile.
“It’s okay. Long time ago.” Troy let him off the hook.
“We …” Ilya waited for himself to catch up; he looked up at the sky then back at Troy and squinted at him. “are good friends.”
Troy just nodded yes.
“Best friends.” Ilya filled in and Troy smiled wide.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“See, I’m getting it.” Ilya looked back at Shane and laughed. Then he took another glance at Harris, “So you are…”
“Troy’s husband.” Now Ilya did a double take and then turned to Shane,
“Was whole team gay?”
Everyone laughed and Shane placed his hand on his lower back, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Mmm, very progressive of us.”
They all laughed again.
“Come on Ilya, I’ve got dogs that need exercise and you’re their main guy.” Harris wavedhis hand and Ilya perked up at that and followed Harris as Shane and Troy stayed behind.
“So, today is…” Troy said without saying anything. Shane gave Troy a small shrug and Troy nodded like he understood. He’s semi-lost today.
“Decent. He’s lost, way back in early hockey days, but he’s taking it all in well. It’s always a good day if he, at the very least, knows us.” Troy wanted to cry as he ran his hand through his hair and nodded, Shane clocked the sadness. “Hey, these lost days aren’t that common. Honestly, I think he’ll get a bit better, with the drug trial he’s in. Just give it time.” Troy still didn’t say anything, he just huffed loudly.
“Well… come back over on a good day, will you?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll call and we’ll come over okay. It’ll be tomorrow probably. Or later this week, I’ll let you know.”
“Whenever. We’re back from traveling so, we’re here.”
“Okay.”
Ilya was playing fetch with 4 dogs. He was in heaven. The other three men sat around the patio furniture, with lots of cheese and wine placed out by Harris on the table, still, Troy and Shane had chosen to drink a lager instead of the wine. They all watched Ilya call each dog by their names, remembering them after Harris gave him the roster.
“Good day?” Harris said, leaning on his side on the couch, perched to face Troy and Shane both on the wicker chairs. Technically, the code of days were marked by three types to Shane: Good days; when Ilya knew they were retired, married, remembered nearly everything about their life, except his memory issues. Lost days; when Ilya’s mind was stuck somewhere back in the past and had to be caught up. And lastly, lucid days; the days he was fully aware of everything and frankly, those were the roughest. Today was a lost day, but Shane tried to reframe lost days as good too. Any day with Ilya is good—that’s what he tells himself.
Shane nodded,
“Yeah, we got breakfast at Dave’s Diner. He ordered his usual.”
“God, how does he eat all that?”
“He always could eat all that.” Shane picked up a cracker from the assortment of food. “I told Troy we’d come back over on the next good good day.” The emphasis was there.
“Is it still—random?” Harris asked. Shane nodded.
“Yeah. Mostly good days honestly. And sorry, I’m a bit selfish on those days, keeping him to myself and my parents usually, but just a few of these days sneak in, but they are still pretty decent, usually. Thanks for letting us come over when it’s like this. He just loves dogs so much, it’s an easy escape.”
Harris batted his hand in the air to say of course.
“When was the last time he—” Harris didn’t finish and Troy took a glare that suggested that he wished Harris hadn’t even asked.
“Was completely aware?” Shane finished the thought for Harris, “3 weeks?” Shane squinted into the sun, then stared over at Ilya, who happened to look back at that instant and waved. Shane waved back.
“You can call us.” Troy said. “on those days too.”
“Yeah I know. It’s only happened a few times, and they are the hardest days honestly. Is that terrible to say?” He looked at them for an answer they didn’t have. “The days he’s fully aware of everything, he’s—” miserable, angry. But Shane didn’t want to finish it and they didn’t ask him to. They knew what he meant, he had called them the day after the first lucid day. He was shaken by it, it was bad.
Ilya made his way back over towards them, leaving the dogs to chase themselves. He was huffing and puffing and standing over them at the patio, next to Shane, and put his hand on Shane’s shoulder, which made Shane melt.
“I love these dogs. Shane, we should get a dog.” He squeezed Shane’s shoulder.
“Should we?” Shane laughed. “Maybe.”
Ilya looked back at the dogs and then back at Shane’s neutral and aged face, “Ah.” Sensing he was putting together something, “We had dogs already.” Almost inflected as a question but came out as a statement.
“Yes, we did Ilya. Several.”
“They were good dogs?” Ilya asked Shane. Troy shut his eyes, nearly squeezing them in pain, and Harris gently put his own hand over Troys.
“Yes, perfect. You were obsessed with them. Spoiled them rotten.”
“Da, I know so.” Ilya took another large breath and sat down on the chair next to Shane. He leaned over and squeezed Shane’s knee. “Gimme kiss.” Shane immediately leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then Ilya looked lovesick eyeing at Shane’s freckles. He looked over at Harris and Troy. “He is so pretty, it’s unbelievable I married him.” Ilya laughed then started piling cheese cubes on crackers and eating them. Shane couldn’t help but grin. He stroked Ilya’s back as Ilya stuffed his face with food.
“Can we come back tomorrow?” Ilya asked.
“Yeah, we just might.” Shane smiled at Troy and Harris, who smiled back and really hoped they would be back the next day too.
TUESDAY
Shane awoke as the sun was peeking through the blinds and tiny dust particles float and danced in the air. Moving with only the purpose to showcase that it existed and it needed to dance. Ilya shuffled under the covers as Shane watched over with a sentimental smile, then Ilya began to open his eyes and looked to Shane. Shane wondered what kind of day he would get with him.
Ilya smirked up at Shane and reached his arm out, trying to drag Shane back to slumber with him, “Too early, don’t get up kotik.” Ilya pulled Shane into his grasp and Shane positioned his back to Ilya’s chest and let Ilya wrap his arm tightly around his torso, squeezing him in a spooning position and then smelling his hair. “Mmm, you smell good.” Ilya laid a soft kiss to Shane’s neck. His hand slowly wandered down to Shane’s boxers and then under. “Someone wants me already.” Ilya breathed into Shane’s neck, causing fission to his skin.
“I always want you.” Shane whispered
“And I always want my pretty husband.”
A good day then.
When Shane and Ilya got out of the car, Troy and Harris stepped out from their front door. Ilya saw Troy and went for a large deep hug.
“Troy!”
Troy flashed a wide smile and hugged him hard, squeezing his ribs and then when they released, he patted both of Ilya’s shoulders. “What the fuck is up man!”
Ilya shrugged and stretched himself. “Retirement, you know? Shane said we had lunch with you two today. As if we don’t see each other enough! How was… Paris?”
“Beautiful, I’ll show you pictures. How’s Sophie?” Troy led Ilya into the house as they chatted each other’s ears off. Harris stayed back with Shane on the porch and Shane handed over a wine.
“Thanks for having us over again. Today. I told you it’d be…soon.”
“Yeah I know. I knew. It’s Troy that gets…”
“Pessimistic.” Shane filled in, but Harris corrected it,
“Sad.”
“There are sadder things.” Shane said deadpanned. “He’s happy.”
“How couldn’t he be?” Harris offered a smile and a side hug and led Shane in.
The four of them gathered around the dining room table with lunch and talked for hours. Ilya played with the dogs again but with a sense of novelty. They all went on a walk through the orchard and Harris sent them away with a whole crate of both cider and barely ripe apples. When they stepped back inside their own home, Shane stored and unpacked the apples and cider in the kitchen.
“I’m going to call Sophie.” Ilya let Shane know and took a place on the couch and called up his daughter.
“Hello my favorite girl!” Shane heard Ilya say in the distance. “When are you going to visit your old men huh?” Ilya gave a light-hearted laugh.
*
Ilya fiddled around with the flower garden, weeding and pruning. The last and late blooms of the summer were showing and Ilya had come to enjoy snipping his favorite flowers all summer long and making bouquets out of them. Usually, he’d take them over to Yuna, but sometimes, he just put them out on the kitchen island.
Shane got on the phone with his mom.
“Yeah, he’s good today. We hung out with Harris and Troy. He’s weeding right now.”
Shane listened on the other end to the questions his mother was asking.
“He’s got the check-in and infusion tomorrow.” He listened again to what she wanted to say. “Yes, he’s doing good. Honestly, his lost days aren’t even that bad. He almost always remembers me. Only that one time he didn’t.” He paused to let her speak, then he continued, “Most of the time he’s just stuck a little further back in time you know... like concussions, exactly. Then the next day, I’m his husband and it’s fine. I’ve told you this all before. I tell you this every week. Nothing’s changed. Are you sure you don’t need a SLUMS test?” He tried to sound light-hearted, but these conversations do wear on him.
Shane loves how fiercely everyone cares for Ilya. He does. It’s just—it’s only been six months since diagnosis and the drug trial he’s enrolled in said it could take a whole year until it would show positive change in the opposite direction. It was never going to cure him of dementia, just lessen the confused days, hopefully bridge the neurons that are damaged—maintain it. If it takes; if it works. The realistic goal is it can plateau the disease and keep it from progressing, the hopeful goal is it heals some damage. As far as Shane can tell, Ilya is not increasing in his lost days.It’s still about one a week. Shane gets tired of everyone waiting for updates from him as if he’s going to report that it’s suddenly all fixed. It never will be. And that’s okay. It’s still Ilya. He’s still here.
When Ilya first forgot something, it scared Ilya himself mostly. He practically had a panic attack to Shane about how he was going to end up like his father and that he should get checked out. Later that night, he apologized for panicking and decided it was no big deal; he was just aging.
Then the following month, he was driving Shane and him to the grocery store and got lost on the way there. Shane knew that meant something more. That was a big deal. They booked an appointment the next day. They had test results in a week. And two weeks after that, Shane had a plan, and had Ilya enrolled in an experimental and expensive new drug trial that used stem cells infusions to regenerate and hopefully replace brain damage, at least, that’s how he understood it. Shane had no time to panic or cry or stew in sadness like everyone else. He had a duty to the love of his life, to take care of him, and he wasn’t going to fail at it or let Ilya down. Ilya still seemed with it in the beginning, but his knowledge of his memory loss issues never seemed to stick. The doctors told Shane it’s a defense mechanism. It was bullshit is what it was.
But most days were good days; Ilya knew his entire life—who Shane was, even details from the previous week, their whole life together, hockey career, friends, Sophie. He just didn’t remember that his diagnosis or memory problems existed; and maybe he’d forget Diane closed her pie shop or that David used a cane now. The good days felt the most normal to Shane, if he’s honest.
The lost days… well they were just that—completely lost in Ilyas head, tucked away as almost never existing; not to be recalled for later. Days where Ilya was misplaced just a bit, stuck in a past, needing help with where he was currently. Not a hockey player anymore, but married, retired. They were confusing days for Ilya of course, but luckily for Shane, Ilya’s mind never went back so far that he didn’t know Shane. That only happened just once, and that was tough. Shane put that day out of his mind as best he could. But even the lost days, as Shane labeled them, were manageable.
And then just only three days since the slump into the disease, Ilya would wake up and be lucid enough to remember everything. The diagnosis, the drug trial, the doctors’ appointments, the pockets of time often missing suddenly… weren’t. It was these days when Ilya was technically most aware, most fully himself, and somehow ended up being the hardest for Shane to navigate. Ilya knew and remembered the good days, but he was painfully aware that he hadn’t checked in on his prognosis and his disease; and he was pretty fucking bitter and cold and wrapped in dark thoughts about his life.
In a weird way, Shane hated to admit, he was glad these days came seldomly. He also felt so guilty about that. Shane also was aware if the drug trial worked as it should, those days could end up being more frequent and that would be a great thing technically and he worried about that too. He felt disgustingly selfish. Shane just tried to focus on appreciating every day he got with his husband; to cherish it, cherish him regardless. He could make almost any and every day a good day with Ilya. That was a promise he made to himself. That’s what he cared about most.
“Alright, I gotta go.” Shane said to his mother as he looked up to see Ilya coming in with a big bouquet of joe pye weed and goldenrod stems, smiling with dirt all over him. Shane almost rolled his eyes at it as Ilya smiled crossing the floor to him. “Yes mom, I’ll let him know.”
“Tell Yunamom I say hello!” Ilya said it loud enough she overheard. Shane held out his phone,
“Now she wants to talk to you.” Ilya set the flowers over the counter in a messy bunch and grabbed the phone. Shane went to reach for the vase in the cabinet to fill with water.
“Yes Yunamom. We are good! We should come over for dinner again, make you make me something this time. Ah, so my chicken parm was too good. You enjoy the leftovers?” Ilya smiled and walked over to kiss Shane on the head as he filled the vase with water. “Ahh, good. It would be a waste. It is excellent, even reheated next day. Okay, we’ll plan soon. Love you.” Ilya hung up and watched Shane cut the stems at an angle before putting them one at a time in the vase.
“She loves you more than me.” Shane smiled.
“This I know is true.” Ilya wrapped his arms around Shane’s hips from behind and slowly swayed with him.
“Are you trying to get me to dance? There’s no music.” As Shane said that, Ilya leaned and kissed into Shane’s neck. Shane tilted so Ilya had a more open space to work with.
“It’s romantic solnyshko, we don’t need music.” Ilya increased the little hip sways a bit more and Shane laughed, putting the scissors down and leaning his head back into the crook of Ilya’s neck.
“So we just dance with no music.” Shane asked but it was less of a question and more of an acknowledgment as he let Ilya guide them. Ilya tightened his embrace, closing in more to Shane’s chest and peppered a kiss to his cheek, still swaying.
“Mmm, sometimes life is just to exist and dance, yes?” That made Shane take a breath while he grabbed onto Ilya’s arms wrapped around him. Ilya had said this similar mantra over and over, to calm Shane during panic attacks throughout the years, all throughout their marriage. It always worked somehow even though Shane never understood it. Ilya would say this to Shane a lot when Sophie was a toddler having a meltdown, when Shane felt like a failure of a father, and Ilya would say this phrase and then grab her and spin her around until she forgot she was upset and was just dancing with her Papa.
Shane let Ilya sway them in silence. It felt good. To just exist and to dance.