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Yuna was a very strong-minded woman.
Since she had been a young child, she had known what she wanted and how to get it. It wasn't a skill she had always possessed, though — it had been a necessity to stand her ground. As the sole daughter of immigrant parents, she had dealt with prejudices and racism and stigmatization for as long as she could remember.
Other people might have perceived her as too cold, too stern, too controlling, but for Yuna, it had always been about surviving — surviving amongst her peers, surviving in university, and later, surviving in the public eye.
Yuna liked to be prepared. She needed plans and arrangements to make her feel safe. Security was her number one priority, especially in regards to her family. She wasn't able to shield Shane from everything, she knew that, but she would move mountains to ensure that he would never have to deal with the hate, the racism, the prejudices and the stereotypes. Hell, they even had decided to give him a western name to make his life a little bit easier.
She did everything within her power to care for her son, but she still worried. Her Shane was quiet and private. He had inherited her anxiety and David's introverted personality. She loved him dearly and she was so incredibly proud of him — she wouldn't want to change him — but she feared, he would end up alone.
That was the last thing she wanted.
Yuna had tried setting him up with daughters of colleagues and old uni friends and had sighed whenever he came back home alone. She dragged him from social event to social event in hopes he would finally meet someone he clicked with. David had told her time and time again that she could not force a relationship upon him, and she was aware, thank you very much, but she wanted to see her son happy. Shane was such a special human being and he deserved the world but not everybody understood him or his needs.
Never in a million years did the thought cross her mind that her Shane would end up with Ilya Rozanov.
To say she was skeptical was an understatement. She had followed the Russian's career — she had no other choice. He was so closely linked to her son that every single achievement of Shane was compared to Rozanov's own accomplishments. They rarely got mentioned without the other. Their rivalry was one for the history books.
Yuna did not hate Rozanov, no — she despised him. Just the mention of his name let her blood boil inside her veins. Shane did not work his ass off to only be reduced to some kind of rivalry. He deserved the spotlight and praise for his own achievements and Yuna fought the urge to scream whenever her son just shrugged it off as if he didn't care. She couldn't fathom how he could be so nonchalant about all of this. He should be enraged and angry and stand up for himself. He was his own person, not an extension to some Russian who thought he was above everyone else!
And then Rozanov had the audacity to show up at the hospital, looking like his whole world had shattered in front of his eyes.
Yuna had almost jumped him as soon as he walked into the waiting room. She could not believe that he would dare to set a foot into the hospital and think he would be allowed to see Shane. Her Shane. She felt like she was losing her mind when David allowed him into their son's hospital room and comforted him. Had it not been for the exhaustion that had settled deep inside her bones … she would have caused a scene.
She was still in shock, two days later.
She had calmed down considerably, though, especially after she had seen for herself just how much Ilya Rozanov loved her son. The effect he had on Shane was undeniable. At first, she wanted to blame it on the heavy drugs the medical professionals had put Shane on. He seemed relaxed and carefree and just happy. He did not want to let go of Rozanov and pouted whenever the other did not give in to whatever was on Shane's mind. Yes, he was still in a lot of pain — Yuna could see it written all over his face — but it appeared as if he didn't even notice. As if it wasn't important enough to be noticed, his mind occupied by the Russian.
But Rozanov could not stay forever.
His busy schedule had forced him to leave. Boston had two more games to play during their road trip and he needed to get back to his team. But isn't Shane more important?, Yuna had wanted to ask, using the first opportunity she got to accuse her son's rival of anything that would prove him as unworthy. She knew however that Rozanov had no other choice. Staying would draw suspicion, and people would start to ask questions nobody was willing to answer just yet.
So he left.
David and Yuna had quietly watched Rozanov and Shane say their goodbyes, whispered words, filled with promises and affection. It twisted something inside her chest. Seeing Shane so visibly upset and Rozanov unable to let go of him — it made Yuna reconsider what she thought she knew about Rozanov. About Ilya.
Shane's whole composure shifted after Ilya's departure. While he had been awake during most of the time of Ilya's visit, he now slept a lot, his body carrying an obvious tension. The difference was unnerving.
Yuna could not stop thinking about it. She lay awake at night in Shane's guest bedroom, long after they had returned from the hospital. She kept staring up at the ceiling, a million things occupying her mind, David's steady breathing not enough to lull her to sleep.
The need to talk overwhelmed her. She turned on the lamp on her nightstand and shook David awake. He grumbled displeased but blinked his eyes open nevertheless.
"Everything okay?," he mumbled and looked at her with bleary eyes. Yuna felt guilty for waking him up when he was clearly exhausted but she could not wait another second. She would simply explode.
But now, she wasn't quite sure of how to start this conversation. She suddenly lacked the vocabulary to articulate any of the thoughts troubling her.
David, sensing her inner turmoil, rolled onto his side and reached for her hand. She let him intertwine their finger.
"Let me guess," he said, his voice deep with sleep. "It's about Shane and Ilya."
Yuna huffed out a breath and nodded. "I just don't understand how this happened. It feels so bizarre. Like … how did this even happen? Shane is so nice and polite and Ilya is nothing like this. He has affairs and is rude and can't stop flirting with the female journalists. And then he turns up at the hospital and is in love with Shane?"
David was quiet for a long moment, contemplating her words.
"A lot happened," he started, carefully choosing his words. "We had to watch Shane get hurt on the ice, wait in the hospital for hours without any news about his condition and come to terms with the fact that our son has kept some very significant secrets from us." He studied her face. "It's a lot to process, especially under these circumstances."
"You don't say," Yuna snapped in frustration, instantly feeling bad for lashing out.
David only smiled at her, his expression softening. "Nobody faults you for being protective of Shane," he said. His thumb rubbed gently across the back of her hand. "And yes, it seems impossible that someone like him could fall for someone like Ilya Rozanov, but have you ever considered that not everything we see depicted in the media is necessarily a portrayal of reality?"
Yuna frowned. "I know that, I'm not naive."
"I know that. But think about it." David's face grew serious. "Even Shane has a public persona he adopts whenever he is in the spotlight. His is not as-" He searched for the right expression. "-scandalous as Ilya's, yes, but even he acts differently when he's on camera."
Yuna stared at him. "So his affairs and scandals are what? A diversion tactic? A disguise?"
"Maybe they are an exaggerated version of himself," David reasoned. "We don't know. And that's my point, Yuna. We don't know. We only know what he chose to show to the public … but clearly, there is so much more going on."
Yuna stayed quiet. The rational part of her mind agreed with her husband. She had seen Ilya interact with her son in the hospital, after all. But it was still a lot to swallow. Her life and her views had been completely uprooted from one second to the other and she had always struggled with changing her mind, especially after such a long time.
But maybe it was finally time to try anyways. Even if it was hard, she owed it to Shane.
"We could invite him," she suggested. "He's playing Ottawa on Friday. Maybe he can drop by after his game and stay for a few days."
David smiled. "Shane would surely appreciate it."
Yuna sighed. "I don't want him to feel like we don't support or trust him, David. I don't want to be that kind of parent."
David pressed a kiss against her forehead. "You're not, don't worry. I'm sure he had his reasons to keep this from us. He knows we love him. We just have to show him that we mean it."
He yawned and Yuna got suddenly reminded that it was the middle of the night. She reached over to turn off the light. David waited until she settled back down before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Yuna closed her eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered into the darkness of the room. David nuzzled into her hair with his nose in response.
Even though she already felt lighter, it took her almost an hour until she finally managed to fall asleep.
Shane got released from the hospitals around noon the next day, and Yuna spent all morning packing her son a bag.
She had visited Shane's apartment countless times but somehow, it felt like she saw everything from a new perspective. Her mind tried to fit the image of Ilya Rozanov into this space. Did he take off his shoes as soon as he entered? Where did he put his jacket? Had Shane greeted him at the door or did he have a key? She almost expected Ilya to burst into the apartment at any moment.
Would both of them cook dinner together or order in? What would they talk about? Yuna could not think of one single topic outside of hockey those two could converse about. They surely wouldn't spend their shared evenings in silence, would they?
She looked through Shane's books but found none in Russian. When she went through his closet to gather some clothes for his stay, she discovered a few clothes she had never seen on her son. It was possible that these were just new … but maybe they belonged to Ilya? Did he really have spare clothes in Shane's closet? The idea of a joint wardrobe seemed so domestic, so serious.
Then again … Shane did not strike her as the person who preferred casual flings. Or maybe he did? It was nothing they had ever discussed before.
She had also never realized how empty Shane's apartment was.
It was almost completely devoid of anything that made him him. No pictures on the walls, no trinkets on his book shelf, no dirty dishes in the sink or clothes strewn across his bedroom floor. His apartment clearly lacked the warmth that made a house a home.
How had she never noticed? How had she never been concerned about this?
The drive home turned out to be another struggle. They had been warned that his concussion could trigger motion sickness, but they hadn't even made it out of Montreal yet when Shane felt sick for the first time. Yuna barely had the time to grab a plastic bag from her purse before Shane threw up. David pulled over, and Yuna jumped out of the car to comfort Shane. He quietly apologized with a shaky voice but she waved him off. It took ten minutes until his stomach had finally settled. The two-hour drive from Montreal to Ottawa turned into four. Sometime during the third hour, Shane had fallen asleep, clearly overpowered by the exertion of his motion sickness.
After their car stopped in their driveway, David grabbed Shane's luggage while Yuna woke up their son. He was still tired, his movements sluggish and off-balance. She wrapped her arm around his waist and steered him inside, carefully avoiding anything he could bump into with his wounded side and cause him any more pain. They reached the living room and Shane lay down immediately, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. Yuna hurriedly closed the curtains in front of their large windows, attempting to shut out as much light as possible. The doctor had advised Shane to avoid bright light sources for the next few days and after their chaotic journey, Yuna was willing to try anything to relieve Shane of some of his discomfort.
"Thank you," Shane croaked, shifting around to accommodate his right arm and shoulder. He had to rest his arm in a sling to take some of the pressure off of his fractured collarbone. Apparently, he wasn't too pleased about that.
"Can I get you something to drink or eat?," Yuna asked. She sat down beside Shane, reached out and traced her fingers along his right cheek. His skin felt clammy underneath her touch.
Shane slightly shook his head which was followed by a wince. They were silent for a few moments, the only sound coming from David who had carried Shane's things upstairs and was now in the kitchen.
Yuna wondered if she should say something. She could tell that something was bothering Shane and she had a guess to what exactly was on his mind. But she decided against it. He was in no condition for a serious conversation. She had so many questions but she would not push him past his limits. He needed rest.
She continued to stroke across his cheek. Even with the bruises littered across his skin, he still looked like her sweet boy. She loved him so very much and it pained her to see him like this.
"Mom?," he asked quietly, slowly blinking one eye open.
"Yes?"
"Could you …," he started, unsure of himself. Suddenly, anxiety radiated off of him.
Yuna frowned. "What is it, baby?," she asked softly.
Shane contemplated whatever was on his mind before blowing out a long breath. Yuna wanted to reassure him that he should not worry about whatever was bugging him.
"Could you maybe get my phone and … uh … text Ilya that we made it home safe?" His voice was barely audible. He bit his bottom lip and blushed. "He tends to worry, even if he denies it."
Yuna regarded her son. She realized this was the first time since the Russian had to leave that Shane mentioned him. Shane had not once spoken the other's name, had neither asked about him nor about his parents' opinions. Even under pain medication, he had simply kept quiet.
He had the choice to deny everything, to blame his actions on the drugs and the concussion. Yuna and David would've had no other option but to accept Shane's decision and act as if nothing had ever happened. But apparently, Shane had made up his mind to trust them with his secret.
Yuna would never let him down again!
She smiled softly, combing her fingers through his hair. "Of course I can."
Shane looked at her for a moment before he finally relaxed. "Thanks, Mom."
Yuna stood and left. David waited in the kitchen for her, preparing two cups of coffee. He pressed a kiss to her temple before nodding towards the kitchen table. "I overheard you and grabbed his phone for you," he said.
Yuna reached for the phone, typed in Shane's pass-code and was greeted by an onslaught of messages from Lily. She frowned at the name.
Arrived in Toronto
Is boring city
Reminds me of you
Game went well, I'm catching up to you in scoring race
Love beating Kent and Barrett
But not as much as I love beating you
Gives more satisfaction, beating second best player in MLH
Marleau makes fun of me. Says I'm getting ghosted by my Montreal Girl
My Jane would never ghost me
Pity you are not allowed screens
Miss talking to you
Miss seeing your stupid face with stupid smile and stupid eyes and stupid freckles
Yuna blinked.
Lily and Jane, huh?
It hadn't dawned on her yet that they had to use code names to disguise their identities. But it made sense. If someone saw a message from Lily come up on Shane's phone, nobody would suspect a thing. This realization stabbed through her heart. It pained her to think that her son had to keep his feelings quiet, forced to hide in plain sight.
Yuna wondered again just how long this had been going on. Hayden had teased Shane about a Boston Lily, even in Yuna's presence, but she had never asked questions. Shane had vehemently denied any claims of having a girlfriend and Yuna had never had a reason to not believe him. Surely, Boston Lily had to be the same Lily whose texts she was reading now. Ilya.
But … Hayden had teased Shane for years …
Yuna skimmed through earlier messages. She was aware that she was invading her son's privacy but she couldn't help herself. She just … had trouble connecting her impression of Rozanov, her son's rival who she had hated for almost a decade, with Ilya, who had shown up in the hospital, anxious and distraught and clearly broken by Shane's accident. And these texts gave her another insight into her son's potential relationship.
Ilya was funny, she had to give him that. And it was clear that he cared about Shane. They teased each other, and got on each other's nerves. But these texts also attested to their passion and their yearning. They missed each other, longed to be together, and Yuna could not wrap her mind around the fact that they barely had opportunities to meet up. Stolen moments here and there, always in darkness, away from prying eyes.
She began typing.
Hey Ilya, this is Jane's mom. She got discharged from the hospital today and we took her back to ours in Ottawa. She asked me tell you that we made it home safe!
The reply came almost instantly.
Ah, thank you for information!
How is Jane?
She is tired after the drive. Her motion sickness got really bad and we had to pull over a few times. She should feel better soon now that she can rest.
Tell her I win next game for her, to cheer her up
Despite everything, a grin sneaked onto Yuna's face.
Of course!
Can I save your number in my own phone? I don't want to use Jane's phone any longer than necessary. And it would be easier to stay in contact in case of another emergency.
👍🏻
She quickly saved his number under Shane's Lily. As she stared at the empty chat on her phone, she took a sip from the coffee David had placed in front of her.
David and I want to invite you. You could visit after your game against Ottawa.
No pressure but we think Jane would like that very much.
She took another sip from her coffee and waited for Ilya's reply. David sat down across the table with his own coffee. He was watching her.
"You were smiling," he said after a few moments of silence.
Yuna hummed. "I guess I was."
David didn't reply. Instead, he kept regarding her with a soft expression on his face, his eyes crinkling in amusement.
Her phone screen lit up.
I would like that very much, too
Great! How long could you stay?
Game is tomorrow evening
Could stay until Sunday morning, have practice later that day
Would be two nights
I tell team I'll see my Montreal Girl after game
They won't ask questions
That sounds like a plan. We are happy to have you.
David and I would like to get to know you.
Yuna texted him their address and put her phone away.
"Ilya comes tomorrow after his game," she said in a low voice. She didn't want Shane to overhear their conversation. If he knew they had invited Ilya, he would probably freak out and try to change their minds. Yuna didn't want to put even more stress on him.
She also wanted it to be a surprise.
David nodded.
They finished their coffees in silence. He squeezed her shoulder before he went to check up on Shane, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The next day was filled with cleaning and preparing while Shane was asleep in his room.
He had come down for every meal but his body needed rest and neither David nor Yuna wanted Shane to overexert himself. It was better if Shane allowed himself to heal instead of forcing himself to socialize with his parents. It also gave David and Yuna enough space to get everything ready for Ilya's visit.
In the early evening, they all gathered in the living room to watch the game between Boston and Ottawa. Shane was not allowed to look at the TV, but he was content just listening to the commentary. Unsurprisingly, Boston took the lead shortly after the game had started — the Ottawa Centaurs were abysmal on a good day.
It felt nice to have Shane back at home but Yuna wished the circumstances had been different. Shane had moved out so young — he'd barely been off age — and she missed him. Dearly. She was proud of him, his dedication to the sport they all loved, and his achievements, and she would never change it for anything, but sometimes, her house just felt too big, too quiet, too empty. She would sit next to David and wonder what Shane was up to, if he had any plans. Would he stay in? Read one of his many hockey books? Or would Hayden invite him over for a dinner with Jackie and the kids?
Or would he meet up with Ilya and spend the night with the man he fell in love with, hidden in the security of his own home?
Yuna found herself captivated by watching Ilya. She had paid attention to him before, yes, but she had never been open minded enough to appreciate his playing style. He possessed obvious talent. He may not be as precise as Shane but he was faster. He allowed himself to take more risks. Shane relied on statistics and strategies — he used his analytical mind to predict the tactics of his opponents. Ilya was all instincts and raw feelings.
If they ever ended up on the same team, it would be over for everyone else.
Boston won four to one. Ottawa had managed to score one goal after Boston had been in the lead three to zero. It didn't matter in the end. Boston had dominated them, to absolutely nobody's surprise.
Ilya came up on their screen — his skin glistening with sweat, his golden curls wild — to do the post-game interviews. Yuna didn't really listen to what he had to say. Instead, her eyes were glued to Shane.
Ilya talked about the team, his teammates' skills, and congratulated them on their win. He answered questions about their strategy and their playoff chances and a potential cup victory. Shane listened intently to Ilya's every word.
Just hearing Ilya's voice had an immediate effect on her son. His usually closed-off face appeared open, showing the pride he felt for the achievements of his … boyfriend? A light blush dusted his cheeks, color returning to his sickly pale skin. A small smile spread across his lips. He looked younger somehow, like a more carefree version of himself.
Yuna wished she would see this Shane more often in the future.
She caught David's eyes from across the room, a conspiratorial glint shimmering in them.
Her phone screen lit up.
Almost done, will be there in 40 minutes
Okay!
Congratulations on your win!
Thank you
Was good game
Shane watched game too?
He can't look at screens yet but he listened to the commentary.
"Who are you texting, Mom?" Yuna jumped at the sound of Shane's voice. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
Yuna put her phone down. "I was congratulating Ilya on his win."
"Oh." Shane's blush deepened. "Okay."
Yuna looked over to David who shrugged.
"Should I not have done that?," Yuna asked carefully, worried she might have overstepped. It happened sometimes when she got too caught up with ideas and plans to realize that she was pushing other people's boundaries, even if she meant well.
"No, it's fine, I guess," he answered hesitantly. He averted his eyes, avoiding her gaze. "I wasn't aware you have his number now."
Yuna put her right hand on Shane's knee in what she hoped came across as reassuring.
"I thought it might be easier and you might appreciate it if I didn't use your phone," she said softly. "And it might be good to stay in contact in case of emergencies."
Shane nodded but still couldn't look at her. Something kept bothering him.
"Shane?," David now asked. "You know you can talk to us."
He turned down the volume of their TV until the voices became nothing more than background noise. Yuna almost wished he hadn't — the atmosphere around them felt charged with the anticipation of the conversation that was about to happen. They needed to address the elephant in the room eventually and Yuna was curious to no end … but now, she didn't know if she was ready. Speculations were one thing, but knowing the truth?
It would make it real. Final.
Shane opened his mouth to speak but no words came over his lips.
They were quiet for a long time, just waiting for Shane to find the words to articulate what had stood between them for the last few days.
And then, after what felt like hours, he blew out a breath. "I just thought you would've asked me about … him by now," he said hesitantly, with a trembling voice. "About Ilya, I mean."
Yuna's heart started racing. She squeezed Shane's knee — an attempt to comfort the both of them.
"We thought it better to wait until you were feeling well enough to talk," David said and Yuna nodded. "These last few days were very mentally taxing and we wanted to give you some space to work through everything that happened.."
"Of course we wanted to ask you about him," Yuna added. "Your father and I are dying from curiosity but we also know that you might not be ready to talk about this yet."
Shane tentatively looked back at her, his eyes now filled to the brim with tears. "So you're not disappointed that I'm g-" His voice broke. He huffed out a breath in frustration. "Gay."
Yuna wondered how often he had said it out loud before.
Her heart broke. "You could never disappoint us, baby," she reassured him, her own tears threatening to fall. "Thank you for telling us. For trusting us with this."
"But … I lied to you for years and I-," he sniffled, the sound tearing through Yuna as if he had stabbed her with a knife. She reacted without thinking and pulled her son into a tight hug, careful to not hurt his fractured collarbone.
"You have nothing to apologize for," she whispered into his hair. "We love you so much, Shane, and nothing could ever change that."
"We are sorry we made you feel like you couldn't tell us," David added quietly, even his voice croaked.
"I forgive you," Shane mumbled, his face pressed into Yuna's shoulder. Yuna kissed the top of his head, her right hand tracing shapes across his back. Her eyes met David's who looked at them with so much love she almost felt lightheaded. A part of her wished they could stay like this forever.
Their doorbell rung, shattering the moment. David immediately got up to answer the door. Quiet voices could be heard from the hallway.
Shane raised his head from where it had rested against her shoulder, a confused frown on his face. Yuna let go of him and instead, reached to wipe away his tears with her thumbs.
"Are we expecting visitors?," he asked Yuna.
She opened her mouth to reply but got interrupted by David who reentered the living room, closely followed by Ilya Rozanov.
Even though Yuna had invited Ilya herself, the sight of him standing in her house felt jarring. He was massive, even more than Shane, and all of a sudden, the room felt too small to fit all of them.
Ilya and Shane stared at each other. Ilya's gaze traced over Shane's face, studying his features as if it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on him. And maybe it was, in a way. The last time Ilya had seen him, Shane had barley been conscious, lying weakly in a hospital bed. Yuna and David had witnessed Shane get better. They had been present when his strength returned back to him — Ilya hadn't.
Suddenly, Yuna felt like she was intruding on a very private moment.
She stood up.
"It's late," she said and walked over to David who instinctively snaked his arm around her waist. She leaned on him. "We'll go to bed and leave you to it."
Yuna didn't wait for an answer. She left the room, dragging her husband with her.
Yuna woke up around eight the next morning. David was still sleeping soundly next to her, but Yuna felt restless and decided to get up. After a short trip to the bathroom, she went downstairs with the intention to make breakfast when she heard two voices coming from the kitchen. She peaked through the half-opened door.
Shane was seated at the table. His hair —usually well maintained — was ruffled and all over the place, strands standing up in all kinds of different directions. He was grinning, eyes crinkled, head tilted slightly. His joy radiated off of him — it seemed so palpable, so real, Yuna could almost touch it and hold it between her fingers.
He chuckled, the sound laced with so much love that Yuna had to stifle a gasp. She suddenly felt so stupid for ever doubting his relationship with Ilya. If Ilya mad her son feel safe enough to the point he could unapologetically be himself, who was she to stand in between them?
Yuna leaned against the doorframe and kept watching. Shane was apparently trying to instruct Ilya on how to use their coffee maker.
"No, you have to press the other button," he said with clear amusement.
Ilya huffed. "Stupid Canadian machine. Why is it so complicated?" He tried to act annoyed but his voice was choked up with suppressed laughter.
Shane rolled his eyes fondly. "It's American, to be precise. And it would work if you listened to me."
"I am listening," Ilya retorted. He pressed another button and the machine roared to life. "See, Hollander? I did it!" He turned around to Shane, a smirk plastered on his face.
"Yes, you did," Shane said. "I'm proud of you." He lifted his face — an invitation. Ilya quickly walked over to him and pressed a tender kiss to his lips.
"I can die happy now," Ilya murmured against Shane's lips. "Shane Hollander is proud of me!"
Shane groaned and pushed Ilya away with his left arm. "You are such an asshole, Rozanov."
Ilya crowded back into Shane's space. His movements were slow and gentle. He wrapped his arms around him, carefully avoiding the other's injuries. It should have been an awkward position — Shane seated, Ilya twisted around him — but somehow, it wasn't. It seemed natural.
Yuna's heart fluttered at the open display of affection.
She entered the kitchen. "Good morning, boys," she greeted them.
She had expected both of them to spring apart and while Shane tensed up slightly, he did not push Ilya away. Gratitude flooded through her — Shane trusted her to see him like this and she would never take it for granted.
"Good morning, Mrs Hollander," Ilya said. "I'm making coffee with complicated American machine. Do you want some?"
Shane shot him a warning look but Yuna laughed. "Please, call me Yuna," she said. "And yes, gladly."
She sat down at the table and watched Ilya navigate her kitchen under Shane's commando. He looked very proud of himself when he put down the steaming coffee mug in front of her. She thanked him and took a sip. It was good.
Ilya was clearly full of himself. Yuna recognized it in the way he held himself, his posture brimming with a charming confidence. But David had been right: What he displayed in public was clearly an exaggerated version of himself, a public persona meant to distract. A shield that he had wrapped tightly around himself.
Yuna liked this Ilya better, the one she got to see in private, the one that was reserved for people he trusted. She felt honored to be included in what must be a small circle.
"Is Dad still asleep?," Shane asked after a while. He sounded nervous all of a sudden. Ilya, now sitting next to him, squeezed his good shoulder.
Yuna, who had taken another sip from her coffee, put down her mug. "Yes, why?"
Ilya and Shane shared a look, clearly debating something. Yuna was amazed by their non-verbal communication and wondered again just how long this thing between them had been going on. Whatever it was.
David and her relationship had lasted for over thirty years now, and she prided herself on how attuned they were to each other's needs. But it had taken them a long time to reach this level of synchronicity. Seeing it happen between Shane and Ilya … it blew her mind.
"We … uh … we want to talk to you. Answer your questions," Shane said. He cleared his throat. "Some of them anyways."
Ilya nodded. "To get it over with."
"Ilya, I told you not to say it like that," Shane hissed, now more annoyed than nervous.
"Why not? Were your words." The Russian smirked.
Shane groaned. "You are impossible."
Ilya blew him a kiss. "But you like it, Hollander."
"Unfortunately." He said it in such an exasperated tone that Yuna snorted into her coffee.
But she appreciated what Ilya was doing. He was getting Shane out of his own head.
He also appeased her own worries. He obviously knew how to deal with Shane's many moods. Yuna had spent years being afraid that Shane would never find a person with the ability to comfort him in the way he needed. But he was in good hands.
The knowledge filled her with warmth.
Their conversation happened later that day.
It was early in the afternoon, and David and Yuna were in their living room, quietly enjoying each others company. Shane and Ilya had excused themselves before heading upstairs. David now sat in his armchair, reading his newspaper, while Yuna had decided to catch up on her emails.
They stopped what they were doing when Shane and Ilya entered the living room, both looking serious. The atmosphere shifted immediately.
"Can we talk?," Shane asked, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. Yuna and David shared a look.
David put down his newspaper. "Of course, son."
Yuna moved over to make space for Ilya and Shane. They took a seat on the couch, awkwardness bleeding out of them.
"We are together!," Shane exclaimed loudly. Everyone stared at him and even Shane appeared surprised by his own outburst.
Ilya raised his eyebrows. "Straight to the point, Hollander."
Shane shoved him in response.
Yuna bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from laughing. David's amused expression told her he wasn't faring any better.
Shane took a deep breath before continuing: "What I meant is … Ilya is my boyfriend. Like officially."
His hands were shaking. Ilya must have noticed because he instinctively intertwined their fingers. Shane leaned back, resting his body slightly against Ilya's side.
"We are really happy for you," Yuna said and meant it. If someone had told her a week ago that her Shane would introduce Ilya Rozanov as his boyfriend … she would have laughed in their face and called them crazy.
Funny, how much can change in a short amount of time.
"Both of you," David agreed.
Yuna nodded. She decided to be honest. "Even though, we have to admit, we found your choice of partner questionable in the beginning."
Shane blushed and Ilya bit his bottom lip to hide his smug grin.
"And excuse our curiosity," David said. "But how exactly did this start?"
"And when," Yuna added, looking expectantly from Shane to Ilya.
Shane and Ilya's eyes met and the blush on Shane's cheeks deepened. His eyebrows drew together. "Do you … uh … remember that one commercial I did with Ilya?," Shane said, clearly hesitating.
David raised his eyebrows and Yuna choked on thin air. What?
"But that was … your rookie season!," she stated, shocked.
Whatever she had expected — it certainly wasn't this. Since their rookie season?!
"No, actually, was summer before," Ilya corrected her.
"The summer before your rookie season," Yuna repeated, out of breath. She stared at Shane. "You both have been in love for … what ... almost ten years?" She needed to lie down after this.
That sent both of them into a frenzy.
"Oh, god no," Shane exclaimed over Ilya's "Oh, no no no no no no!"
"Was just," Ilya started and then grimaced. He waved his free hand around ominously.
"Ilya," Shane warned under his breath, looking like he might combust. Yuna couldn't blame him. This situation was hysterical.
David stared at them. "Just what?"
Oh, her sweet husband, bless his heart.
Yuna caught his eyes and mouthed "L-O-V-E-R-S".
"Ah," he said and cleared his throat.
Both Ilya and Shane looked like they wanted to be anywhere else. Yuna pitied them. This was probably not how they had imagined this conversation to go. They were both blushing now, clearly embarrassed. Shane clutched Ilya's hand as if it was the last thing keeping him alive.
What now appeared funny and could be told as an anecdote in years to come was, in its fundaments, incredibly and devastatingly sad. They got together so young, even before their professional careers in the MLH had started. Somehow, they made it work. Despite their circumstances.
Yuna couldn't imagine how scared they must have been…
And, oh god, Ilya was Russian. She hadn't even thought about what that meant for him. Russia was not a safe space for people like him or Shane. What would his family say? Would he even be able to go back home if this got out?
Did he have anyone outside of Shane's family taking care of him?
The image of Ilya sitting alone in his apartment broke her heart.
Her head started spinning. She would never allow anything bad to happen to her boys.
"You need a plan!," she declared before she had even finished her thought. "Both of you. In case something gets out!"
"Mom, can you chill for a second?," Shane asked desperately. "We just got together!"
Yuna frowned, unhappy. Did they not see the urgency of the matter?
She regarded both hockey players for a very long moment before she sighed. "I'm not trying to micromanage your relationship, Shane. I just want to make sure that both of you have the necessary precautionary measures in place. Just in case. You can't fault me for thinking about the security of your careers and your lives." She softened her expression. "Shane, look at me."
He hesitantly met her eyes.
"Even if your relationship has not been official for long, you have been together for years. I am not stupid. This is a long term commitment and I want you to think about it that way. We don't have to figure things out immediately, but it would be best if we started to make plans eventually."
"Your mother is right," David said. "It never bodes well to leave things up for chance. Especially something like this."
Shane closed his eyes in resignation. "Okay," he conceded. "But not now. Ilya leaves tomorrow and I don't want to waste our last evening together."
After dinner, Yuna excused herself and went outside into her garden. She needed air and the evening was pleasantly warm. She sat down on the edge of the terrace, her cardigan wrapped tightly around her. A mild breeze tousled her hair, carrying the scent of nearby flowers and freshly mowed grass.
She stared mindlessly at the sunset that tinged the sky with soft hues of orange and pink. A lot had happened and it would take time to fully comprehend everything. There were plans to make and people to call and meetings to arrange. It would be a lot of work but Yuna was convinced that it would be worth it.
The sound of a door caught her attention. Yuna tore her gaze away from the sky, looked up and saw Ilya standing behind her, his fingers toying with a package of cigarettes.
She beckoned him over and he sat down beside her.
"Shane does not like me smoking," Ilya shrugged. He took a slow drag from his cigarette and blew out the smoke — Yuna watched it dissipate in the air around them.
"It's bad for you," she said, no heat behind her words.
Ilya's face twisted into a crooked smile. "Is what Shane always tells me."
"Maybe you should listen to him."
"Hmm, maybe."
Silence stretched between them but it wasn't awkward. Yuna found that she quite enjoyed Ilya's company.
"Thank you for invitation," Ilya said after he finished his cigarette.
Yuna turned her gaze back towards him. "Of course," she replied, tilting her head. "You are always welcome here."
Ilya nodded, averting his eyes. He studied his hands.
"Thank you," he repeated himself after a few moments. " I wanted to apologize. I didn't make best first impression in hospital. I didn't know what to do. I just couldn't stay away." His voice broke, his accent thickening with emotions.
Yuna wanted to reach out and take the Russian into her arms. She wanted to run her hands through his unruly curls and comfort him. But she wasn't sure yet if this was a welcomed gesture.
"It was quite the shock, yes," she started. "But I want to apologize, too. I wasn't very welcoming to you. I didn't understand what was happening and I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry for that."
Ilya lifted his head in surprise. "You don't have to apologize."
Yuna shook her head. "I do. I was blinded by my own prejudices," she said softly. "But I appreciate that you showed up at the hospital for Shane. Despite the potential risks."
She tentatively reached out her hand and Ilya took it without hesitation.
"Can I tell you something without you making fun of me for being an overbearing mother?"
"Would never make fun of you," Ilya said earnestly. "Shane is lucky to have you."
Yuna squeezed his hand, his so much bigger than her own.
"I was worried about Shane," she admitted. "He has always been quiet and very private. I knew he kept things from us but I never imagined the extent of his secrets." She paused for a few seconds. "He gets lost in his head a lot, especially if he is stressed about something. He gets that from me, unfortunately."
Ilya chuckled in response.
"What I meant to say is … I feared he would never find someone who knows how to take care of him in the way he needs," Yuna whispered, choked up by all these emotions that slowly caught up to her. Tears formed behind her eyes and she had to blink them away. "But you showed me that you care about him. Deeply. And I finally feel peace knowing that he has found that special someone."
Ilya sniffed, wiping a lonely tear off his face. "I love him," he said, stated it as if it was simple.
And maybe it was. Simple. The world was difficult and confusing and dangerous. They had to combat long distance, a language barrier, their rivalry and the spotlight being constantly on them. Their careers were on the line. But they loved each other and simply, it made everything worth it.
"I know," Yuna said and she did. She did know, even if in the beginning, she had tried her hardest to ignore the signs.
More tears escaped Ilya's eyes and Yuna couldn't suppress the urge any longer — she let go of his hand to open her arms, welcoming Ilya into a hug. He accepted her invitation immediately, his huge body feeling impossibly small in her embrace.
"You are always welcome here." She was aware she was repeating herself but she felt like Ilya needed to hear it again. "If you need someone to take care of you or to talk or whatever, you can always text or call or visit. Okay?"
He nodded against her shoulder. "Okay."
It took a while until they were ready to let go of each other. Ilya's face looked blotchy and puffy from crying and Yuna guessed that she wasn't faring much better. The sight made her chuckle wetly.
"We should go back inside, our men are probably thinking we were kidnapped," Yuna said and stood up. She walked towards the door, Ilya following her.
"Thank you," he whispered.
She didn't reply — she only smiled at him, affection blooming inside her chest.
Ilya had to leave early on Sunday morning.
They had agreed that David would drive him to the airport. Unfortunately, Yuna and Shane would draw too much attention if they accompanied them. They were too recognizable. They would stay back at home.
The atmosphere during breakfast was sombre and glum. Ilya had only visited for a short amount of time but he had integrated himself effortlessly into their family. It seemed like he had always been a part of them, filling an Ilya-shaped hole in their midst. None of the Hollanders wanted to see the Russian leave just yet.
Or ever.
When the time came to say their goodbyes, Shane and Ilya stood in the hallway, tightly embraced, neither of them ready to let go of the other. David and Yuna kept their distance, trying to give them some privacy.
"He will be back," David said quietly, wrapping his arms around Yuna's waist.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know. Just-"
David pressed a kiss into her hair in understanding.
A few minutes later, Yuna wrapped Ilya into a hug while David gave him a hefty clap on the back.
"Text me when you're back home," she demanded quietly.
Ilya nodded. "I will. Promise."
She squeezed him one last time before letting him go. She would miss him.
Yuna and Shane watched in silence as Ilya and David got in the car. David waved at them, and Ilya grinned. He was wearing a backwards cap and sunglasses. A meager disguise, if you asked Yuna - nothing could ever dim the light radiating off of Ilya Rozanov.
When they were out of sight, Shane sighed and went back inside.
It took Yuna almost ten minutes until she was ready to follow him.