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ILYA

Ilya entered the bookstore and walked towards the service desk near the door, where a blond man he had only seen from his Tinder profile picture was standing. When their eyes met, they both smiled in mutual recognition. Ilya was used to it; some casual encounters when he was bored weren’t all bad. Some ended in sex, some were arranged just for that, and others, like this one, were simply a harmless invitation for coffee.

“Hi.”

“Hi, I’m just going to turn off the computer, it’ll be quick.”

“Okay” Ilya nodded.

“Ilya Rozanov?” says a voice behind him. He feels his soul leave his body; he knows that voice, time may have changed it a little, but he would never forget it.

“Shane?” Ilya turns around and standing there before him is Shane Hollander. Shane Hollander, whom he hadn’t seen in years but who occasionally crossed his mind, always accompanied by a ‘what if…’ that Ilya quickly dismissed; after all, the past is the past. Well, apparently not anymore.

“I can’t believe it” Shane said, a sigh of disbelief escaping his lips as a smile formed. Ilya stared at him, certain he looked like an idiot because he simply couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. He couldn’t do anything but gaze in wonder at the man in front of him, and when Shane hugged him, he imagined he had spontaneously returned the smile. “I can’t believe it” he heard Shane repeat in a whisper, as his arms tightened even more around Ilya. Shane seemed to see Ilya resurrected from the dead right before his eyes.

“Shane.” The name escaped his lips again, great, it seemed that now the only thing he was capable of saying was that name he had tried so hard not to think about that he had almost managed to forget.

“Okay, so I guess you two know each other…” Harris said from behind the counter, and Ilya remembered why he was there. He and Shane moved away, but Ilya still couldn’t look away, as if Shane could disappear if he did. He was mesmerized. 

“We met years ago” Shane began.

“Many years” Ilya said, the words slowly returning to him.

“How are you? How is your family? I haven’t heard from you since you went back to… Russia” Shane said, the last word leaving his mouth reluctantly.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time… But I’m back. I came back a few years ago.”

“A few years…” Shane repeated, confused.

“Five years, actually” Ilya said, trying to decipher the expression on the other man’s face, was it hurt, or was he imagining things? Shane nodded slightly, assimilating the information.

“Wow” he said softly “that’s great.” He smiled weakly.

“So” Harris said, noticing that Shane and Ilya had just been staring at each other silently for a few seconds, “I‘m done here, we can go whenever you want.”

“Sure, sure” Ilya replied, again reminded of why he was there: the date with Harris. “Just…” he said, glancing back at Shane again “Could you give me your phone number? I don’t want to lose touch again.”

“Yes, sure” Shane grabbed a pen and paper from the counter where Harris had been watching them, wrote down his number, and handed it to Ilya, who looked at the paper as if he still couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

“Well, I have to go now, but it was great to see you” Ilya said, extending his arms to Shane again.

“It was great to see you too” Shane said, returning the hug. Ilya hoped he couldn’t feel how strongly his heart was beating at that moment.

Harris nodded to Shane and then joined Ilya; they walked towards the door. Ilya looked back one last time and Shane was still standing in the same spot watching him leave, but this time it wouldn’t take them 10 years to meet again.

...

“I parked nearby, do we need the car?” Ilya asked Harris.

“It’s two blocks from here, we can walk.”

“Okay” Ilya nodded “So, I hope that wasn’t too weird.”

“That?” Harris laughed “I’m a gay man on Tinder, I’ve seen some really weird stuff, this was nothing.”

Ilya smiled.

“But can I ask where you two know each other from? If it’s not too nosy of me…”

“You can ask” Ilya smiled “I think we kind of grew up together, we went to the same schools, our mothers were friends too.”

“I see” says Harris “I thought you were from Russia”

“I was born in Russia, but I’ve lived here most of my life, so I feel more Canadian than anything else.”

“Oh, but you said you had returned from Russia…”

“When I was 17, we went back to Russia. My father got sick, and he wanted to return to his country. Our country.” Ilya corrected himself. “So we sold the house and left. But then he passed away a few years later, and… there was nothing left for us there.”

“I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay, It’s been a while, but I kind of killed the mood, didn’t I?”

Ilya smiled as if everything he had just said hadn’t cost him years of therapy.

“How about you? Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yes, my family has a farm 45 minutes from here; they produce apples and cider. That’s where I grew up.”

“So you’re a farm boy, huh?!”

“I try not to be” Harris laughed “It’s a family business, but I try to keep things separate. It’s been working so far. But I can’t lie, my fridge is full of apples and cider, and I love it.”

“Is this it?” Ilya asked, stopping in front of a coffee shop.

“Yes” Harris said. Ilya opened the door and held it open for him to pass “Thank you”.

…

“So, how long have you been working at the bookstore?” Ilya asked before taking a bite of pie.

 “About two years, that’s when they opened the coffee shop. Shane started managing both and needed to delegate some tasks, so they hired me.” 

“This coffee shop?” Ilya asked, surprised. 

“No” Harris laughed at the confusion “The coffee shop that’s above the bookstore.”

“There’s a coffee shop above the bookstore?”

“Yes, upstairs”

 “So we’re eating at the competition’s” Ilya laughed. 

“I thought it was more appropriate than having a date at my workplace” Harris laughed too. 

“You’re probably right”

“I like it there, but this place is nice too.” 

“It is” Ilya said, nodding in agreement as his eyes scanned the light blue walls. There were few people at the sparse round dark wood tables, the white lights weren’t exactly pleasant, but bearable. Harris certainly hadn’t brought him there to seduce him, he seemed genuinely to enjoy the conversation “Very cozy.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

 “So” Ilya began, trying to maintain a natural tone “Shane owns that place and he’s your boss?”

 “Yes, he and his partner.”

 “His partner?”

“Yes, Rose Landry.”

 “Is he married?” Ilya asked, a little more seriously than he intended. 

“Oh, no! No, no, no, no…” Harris laughed “His business partner, you know, his associate.”

“Oh.”

 “Yeah” Harris was still laughing. Ilya was missing something. 

“What are you laughing at?” Ilya asked innocently. 

“It was just funny, didn’t you know Shane is gay?”

“No, I didn’t know…” Ilya said, the words escaping his mouth in a whisper. 

“I thought you two were close” Harris said, confused.

 “We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”

 “But you haven’t spoken at all?” Ilya shook his head, a little embarrassed; he’d been a terrible friend. 

“Didn’t they have phones in Russia?” Harris asked jokingly. 

“Russia is a bit complicated.”

Harris nodded, probably understanding Ilya’s half-spoken words.

“Well, I think he really likes you.” Ilya looked him in the eyes. 

“Why do you think that?”

 “In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Shane hug anyone besides his parents and Rose.”

Harris’s words hit Ilya like a slap in the face.

They talked a little more, discovered they shared a passion for dogs, Ilya showed a picture of Anya that occupied his lock screen, Harris showed him some pictures of his dog Quiron and some others on his family’s farm, Ilya was delighted. 

“You should come visit sometime, bring Anya, she’ll love running around the farm.”

 At the end of the night Ilya said goodbye to Harris with a hug, eventually they could become friends, Ilya certainly needed more friends, especially gay friends. Friends who would make him feel as far away as possible from his country, the country that gave him some things, but took away many others, things too important for him not to hold a grudge for the loss.

SHANE

When Shane got home, he felt a euphoria he had never experienced at the end of a work week. The tiredness that accompanied him on Friday nights was gone; in fact, he felt like he could run a half marathon. He checked his phone and nothing, no messages yet, but it was early and Ilya had gone out with Harris? What did that mean? Is Ilya gay? Bi? Are they a couple? Shane had a good relationship with Harris, but he tried to maintain professionalism, so although he knew Harris was super gay, in a way Shane never was, he didn’t know if he had a boyfriend or even if he was looking for one.

Wouldn’t it be incredibly ironic if, after ten years, Shane ran into the straight guy he’d been secretly in love with in his teens and discovered he wasn’t actually straight? And wouldn’t it be a nightmare if he were dating his coworker? 

Shane threw his phone on the bed, he couldn’t look at it right now, so he took off the clothes he’d worn to work and put on something comfortable enough for a run. He didn’t know how much his body could handle, considering he’d already gone for his morning run before work, he just needed to clear his mind, and running did that for him very well. 

When he felt his chest burning more than he could bear, he started retracing his steps home.

As he walked through the door, he took off his sneakers and went straight to the bathroom, ignoring his phone for a few more minutes, just a few more minutes free from the feeling of rejection that would probably hit him if he found nothing on the screen. This was crazy, it was Ilya who had asked for Shane’s number, right? He would call, or text, and if he didn’t, well, Shane had lived ten years without that. 

Unknown number: It was so good to see you today, I feel like we have so much to talk about… 

Shane stared at his phone, the towel around his waist, his hair still dripping, and his heart racing so fast he thought he might have a heart attack right there, naked, wet, and pathetic as he hadn’t felt in years. The message had been sent 6 minutes ago. He took a deep breath and got dressed before replying. He didn’t want to seem desperate, even though he was. 

Shane: Me too.

That was all he could say, but there were so many things he wanted to ask, none of which seemed appropriate to discuss via text message.

 He saved the contact. 

Ilya: Hi, I thought you might be sleeping…

 Shane: It’s not that late.

 Ilya: Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, I was with Harris, nice guy, by the way. 

Shane reread the message about 15 times. What did it mean? 

Ilya: Are you there? 

Shane: Yeah, I am. 

Shane: Are you two dating?

 Shane: Sorry, I think that was inappropriate, he’s my coworker. I shouldn’t be asking about his love life. 

Ilya: I think you’re asking about mine, and I don’t work with you, so I can answer.

Ilya: It was a date, the first one actually. 

Shane: Will there be a second one? 

Shane: Did you like him? 

Shane: And was it nice? 

Shane: Sorry, it’s none of my business.

Ilya: Stop apologizing, you can ask questions, that’s how a conversation works. 

Ilya: It was really nice, he’s great, but I don’t think there will be a second time.

 Shane felt his chest burning, like he always felt when they were lying in the same bed, talking eye to eye and Ilya smiling at him, a thousand future plans being made, plans he didn’t know if Ilya had fulfilled, how could he know? 

Shane: I guess it wasn’t his lucky day. 

Ilya: No, I guess it was mine.

Shane felt himself melting. He was sure he was completely flushed. His free hand automatically covered his face, even though he knew Rozanov couldn’t see him.

 He wanted to ask if Ilya was gay, even though it was clear that even if he wasn’t gay, he was interested in men, but he didn’t.

Ilya: Still there?

Shane: Yeah…

Shane: I think we need to talk.

Ilya: We do.

Shane: Ilya… 

Ilya: Yes? 

Shane: You’re not going to disappear again for ten years, will you? 

Ilya: I promise, I’m not going anywhere. 

Shane: I missed you. 

Ilya: I missed you too. 

Shane pressed his phone against his chest where that warmth wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t stop smiling. 

Ilya Rozanov was back in Canada, in Shane’s life, whatever that meant, and apparently he was here to stay. 

Exhausted, Shane fell asleep.

…

Ilya: Can I call you? 

Shane stared at his phone, the message was from 32 minutes ago. 

He jumped out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He washed his face, combed his hair, and brushed his teeth, even though he knew Ilya couldn’t see him or smell his breath over a voice call. 

Shane: Sure 

The phone vibrated a few seconds later. 

– Hi 

– Hi – Ilya said, and Shane could swear he heard a smile in his voice. 

– Is everything alright? Did something happen?

 – No, everything’s fine, I just…

 - What?

 – Did you sleep well?

 – Yeah, I kind of passed out, and you?

 – Not exactly 

– Oh 

– Do you have plans for today?

 – What do you have in mind? 

– Shane had such a big smile that it threatened to split his face in two. 

– A park maybe? 

– Okay 

– Major’s Hill? 

– Sure

They agreed that Ilya would pick up Shane at 4:30 p.m., which meant he had the whole day free to freak out, but freak out about what exactly? He threw himself onto the sofa, pulling the blanket over himself like a cocoon.

 Ilya had always been a constant presence in Shane’s life since he was 9 years old, when one of the many idiots who liked to insult Shane for being Asian ended up eating sand from the playground. Shane was sitting under a tree near the swings, reading The Little Prince, which he had taken from his mother’s bookshelf. He didn’t know why she had a children’s book; it was for children, right? It had watercolors in it, and the prince was a child too. He tried to ignore the boy standing in front of him who was spitting out angry, meaningless words.

“Besides being an idiot, are you deaf too?” The boy growled closer and closer “Get out of here, you don’t belong here, you’re trash.”

The insults were nothing new to him. Ever since the only Indian boy in Shane’s class had changed to a new school, apparently the bullies had decided he deserved all the bad attention too. He’d heard murmurs of “Go back to China” which was ridiculous because he was part Japanese, but he figured that information wasn’t very relevant to those boys. The only foreigner in the class now was Ilya Rozanov, but Yuna had told Shane that he and his family had recently become Canadian citizens. 

“You’re trash like your mother” the boy yelled, kicking sand in Shane’s face. 

Shane stood up, filled with a rage that sometimes overwhelmed him, but which he didn’t know what to do with. His mouth dropped open and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides, but before he could utter a word, Ilya Rozanov appeared God knows from where like a football player and tackled the boy to the ground. He wasn’t angry, but focused as if he’d come into the world solely to put that boy in his place.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk about other people’s mothers?” Ilya said, punching the boy in the face “You have a very dirty mouth” and then another punch. Ilya filled his hand with sand and shoved it into the boy’s mouth “You should be quieter, huh? It’s good for your teeth.”

Everything happened so fast, and the next minute the three of them were waiting in the hallway outside the principal’s office. 

“When your parents arrive, you’ll go in and talk to Principal Wiebbe. Until then, not a peep.” said the coordinator who had pulled Rozanov off the boy moments before. 

Shane tried to keep his head down, but he felt Rozanov’s deep blue eyes on him. The boy’s face contorted into a grimace as he tried to stifle a laugh, which wasn’t good at all, because it made Shane want to laugh too. He could feel his cheeks burning from the effort to control himself, and his eyes were watering.

Sergei Vetrov, Ilya’s father, was the first to arrive, followed by Shane’s mother, Yuna, and finally the boy’s mother, who seemed very annoyed at being called again. That boy was a problem, and it was no secret to anyone; perhaps it was just the first time someone had given him a taste of his own medicine.

“So, Ilya, what do you have to say in your defense?” asked Principal Wiebbe, a Black man in his forties, very fit for a kindergarten principal. His thinning hair, however, was quite fitting for the profession.

“He was just defending me” Shane said before Rozanov could say anything. 

“Is he your boyfriend now?” the boy asked.

 “I didn’t punch you enough…” Sergei’s hand covered Ilya’s mouth before he could say anything more incriminating. 

“I understand” Wiebbe said “Defending you from what exactly, Shane?” Shane remained silent; he knew he needed to speak, but he didn’t want to embarrass his mother. 

“He…” Shane felt a choking sensation engulf him, as if someone were sitting on his chest. Ironically, that boy had been there more than once. Shane’s eyes filled with tears that he didn’t let fall. “He wasn’t polite” was all Shane said.

“Was it about you being Asian, Shane?” Yuna asked, already knowing the answer. Shane remained silent.

 “Don’t make him talk, okay?” Ilya said to Wiebbe, as he slipped from his father’s grasp. 

‘How does he do it?’ Shane wondered. Sergei was enormous.

 “Alright” Wiebbe said when he understood what it was about “Mrs. Phillips, Bryce is dismissed with a two-day suspension; this is his third warning. If we need to call you here again, unfortunately, there’s nothing more we can do.”

 “But he hit me!” the boy shouted angrily. 

“Shut up, you don’t talk anymore, understand?” the boy’s mother said, dragging him by his coat. Before leaving through the door, she turned to Yuna and apologized. She seemed sincere and tired.

When the door closed, Wiebbe relaxed a little more in his chair, as if the whole problem was over. However, Ilya was still sitting in front of him with blood from the boy’s mouth on his hands. 

“Defending your classmate was very noble of you, Ilya” said Wiebbe “I’m sure your father taught you good values.” 

Sergei remained impassive behind Ilya; whether he was disappointed or proud, Shane couldn’t tell. 

“But this school doesn’t need any more violence” Wiebbe continued “I’ll only give you a warning, but I hope this doesn’t happen again, okay?”

Ilya nodded in agreement.

 “And Mrs. Hollander, Shane is an excellent child, he’s the best student in his class, without a doubt.”

 Shane cringed, why didn’t that compliment sound like a compliment?

 “But I’m afraid that if he doesn’t learn to defend himself, those boys will eat him alive” 

Shane felt his face burn.

“I recommend you enroll him in some kind of martial arts; it could be good for him.”

 Then Wiebbe looked at Sergei again

 “Not just for Shane, it could be good for Ilya too. This isn’t about fighting violence with violence. They’ll learn discipline, self-confidence, self-control, and of course, self-defense is also important.”

Yuna and Sergei exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. 

“Well, you all can go now.”

Shane remembered that day as the day that changed his life forever, the day Rozanov became his best friend. From then on, it was almost impossible for their parents to keep those children apart. They went to school together, to MMA training, they played and ran together around the neighborhood. Ilya lived three blocks from Shane’s house. Yuna and Irina took turns driving them to places. Because of the close relationship between the children, the mothers also became friends.

A thought struck Shane like lightning at that moment: Did Yuna know that Ilya had returned to Canada? Did she and Irina correspond? 

Shane: Hey, can I come over?

 Yuna Hollander: Sure, would you like to have lunch with us? 

Shane: Okay, that sounds good. 

Yuna Hollander: I’ll tell your father to make more food. See you soon.

…

Shane parked in front of his parents’ house. He didn’t know exactly what kind of thing he expected to hear from Yuna. She probably knew as much as he did, but something inside Shane was restless. 

“Dad, Mom… I’m home.”

”We’re in the kitchen.” Shane heard Yuna’s voice and followed it.

“Hi” he said, finding her setting the table while David finished lunch.

 “It smells good.”

“He’s making the chicken you like.”

 “Your specialty” Shane said, touching his father’s shoulder.

 “You know me” David said with a smile “How are you?”

“I’m fine” Shane tried to sound natural. He was eager to ask questions, but decided they should probably eat first; depending on what he heard, there was a high risk of losing his appetite.

 Yuna and David asked questions about the bookstore, about Rose, and promised to visit. They loved the coffee shop, but tried not to go there too often. Shane had always been very welcoming, but he was still a grown man who needed his personal space respected. They understood Shane’s wishes from the moment he decided to live alone, and Shane was grateful for that. In return, they had these pleasant family moments. He never disappeared, and whenever his parents needed something, he was there.

When they finished eating, Shane helped clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, gathering the courage he lacked to start the conversation.

 “Mom…”

“Yes?”

 “I met Ilya Rozanov yesterday, I mean… We saw each other briefly.” He noticed Yuna’s posture change instantly.

 “You met Ilya?”

 “Yes.”

 “Did you talk?”

“We didn’t have much time” Shane said cautiously. 

“I think I kind of froze, actually.”

 “I understand.”

 “I was thinking, you and Irina were friends…” Shane hesitated “She never spoke to you after returning to Russia?”

Yuna took a deep breath “We spoke a few times, yes.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, confused.

“Not that many times, Shane, we barely exchanged a few messages. Sergei was quite ill, I think she was busy.”

 “But she never talked about Ilya?”

“She did.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” Shane asked, his tone a little more accusatory than he would have liked.

“I thought it was better this way, Shane”

 “Why?”He asked exasperated. 

“She asked me to” Yuna said reluctantly “She told me it was Ilya’s decision not to keep in touch and that she was respecting his wishes.”

“What?”

“I spoke to her a few other times, she told me he was going through a difficult time with his father’s illness and the move to another country, you know, he’s lived his whole life in Canada.”

 “But why didn’t he want to keep in touch?”

“I don’t know, Shane” the pained expression on her face showed exactly why this conversation with Shane had never happened before. 

“You should have told me” The words came out of Shane’s throat with great difficulty. His chest burned again “I thought he was dead” he whispered.

“What?” Yuna asked, surprised “Why did you think that?”

“I texted him every day for two months, until I realized there wouldn’t be a response” Shane spat out the words. He didn’t even think, it simply didn’t fit inside him anymore “And then I kept texting, less frequently, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I did this for a year.”

“Shane…”

 “I thought he was dead” Shane repeated “And yesterday I was so happy to know he wasn’t that I couldn’t think of anything else… I’m an idiot.” Shane covered his face with his hands; shame consumed him. He had been so naive. 

“Honey, I didn’t know you felt this way, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I was grieving!” The words came out in a scream “He was my best friend for 8 years and then he disappeared.”

 Yuna was startled; Shane never yelled.

“I’m sorry” he said immediately “I just…”

 “It’s okay” she said.

“What’s going on?” David entered the kitchen, startled. 

Shane and Yuna remained silent; Shane’s ragged breathing was the only sound.

“I need to go” Shane said, leaving. 

“Shane” his father caught up with him at the door. “You shouldn’t be driving like that.”

 “I’m fine.”

“Let me take you home” David insisted “Tomorrow is Sunday; your mother and I will leave your car at your house.”

 “No need, Dad.”

 “I insist” David said, already taking the car keys from Shane’s hands. He went inside and got his own, and then Shane followed him to the car.

 Shane didn’t say a word the entire way, neither did David. He was very different from Yuna. During Shane’s worst phase, when he spent most of his time lying silently in his room, often all David did was be there. He would lie beside his son and simply keep him company, without saying anything. Sometimes Shane would fall asleep, but whenever he woke up, his father was there, often with some snack he had prepared for his son to eat. That was David Hollander. Shane felt he had never thanked him enough for all the times he had simply been the father he needed.

“Are you going to be okay?” David finally spoke when he stopped at Shane’s door. 

“Yes, I will.” Shane nodded “Thank you” he said, hugging him, in his mind, he added ‘for everything’.

…

Shane regretted giving Ilya his address that morning, because now he was outside his house calling for the third time. Shane was in the living room pretending not to be home when he heard the car door slam and Ilya walk to the door. A loud knock. 

“Shane” Ilya called, and then knocked again. 

Shane tried in vain to control his breathing while ignoring him. Then his cell phone vibrated. 

“Shane, I know you’re there” Ilya said, and then he knocked again. 

“Go away“ Shane said with less anger than he intended.

He wanted to be furious, but he was just very sad, and pathetic. He would never open that door, so Ilya wouldn’t see that he had cried for at least half an hour before venting his frustrations in a torturous workout session. He didn’t look presentable at all. 

“Shane… What happened? You wanted to see me this morning.” Ilya asked through the closed door. 

“I don’t want anymore, go away.”

 “Please, open the door.”

 “No.”

 “Shane.”

 “No.”

 “Okay, then we both live here now because I’m not going anywhere.” 

Shane heard a bark and curiosity got the better of him; he opened the door.

 “What’s that?”

“It’s a dog” Ilya replied as if Shane were asking the stupidest question he’d ever heard. 

“I know it’s a dog.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Why did you bring a dog to my house?”

 “I didn’t bring her to your house, I thought we were going to the park, she likes to go for walks.”

 Shane stared at him without saying anything else.

 “Can we talk?” Ilya asked.

“No” Shane said, closing the door.

“Shane” Ilya said, knocking on the door again.

He opened it “Is she trained?” 

“Yes” Ilya said, confused.

 “I need a shower“ Shane said, entering but leaving the door open behind him.

ILYA

 Ilya entered Shane’s house cautiously; everything seemed extremely clean and organized, very different from Ilya’s own apartment. No excessive decorations, everything very white and rather bland.

He sat on the sofa, Anya lay down at his feet, feeling at home. This wouldn’t last long; soon she would start barking, demanding the walk Ilya had promised her.

 He heard the shower and tried not to think about the fact that Shane was surely naked in there. A few minutes later he returned wearing a white t-shirt and light blue shorts, running his hand through his uncombed hair. He was probably the sexiest man Ilya had ever seen. 

When Ilya left for Russia, Shane was already beginning to change physically. He had gained some weight and grown several centimeters by the end of his adolescence, and was no longer shorter than Ilya. In fact, they were the same height now, and Shane was just as strong as him.

Ilya realized he was probably staring because Shane’s expression shifted from angry to confused. 

“What?”

 “Nothing” Ilya said, snapping back to reality. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

 “I’m confused, I thought you wanted to talk too.”

 “I did.”

”You don’t want it anymore?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

 Shane took a deep breath and looked Ilya in the eyes.

 “Why didn’t you ever call me?”

 Ilya felt a lump forming in his throat, he looked down, trying to formulate something coherent. 

“I couldn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“When we arrived in Russia, I wanted to text you, in fact, it was the first thing I wanted to do…”

“And then?”

“Then my father asked me to talk to him first.”

 Shane listened quietly now. 

“Do you remember that Sergei wasn’t my biological father?”

“Yes, I remember” Shane said. 

“When he got sick, I didn’t want to go back to Russia. Our family already had Canadian citizenship; we’d lived our whole lives here. Ottawa was my home. You… I didn’t want to leave you behind.” Ilya said with some effort.

“So?”

 “Then my mother told me he was very sick, and that there was no cure; we would just be fighting to have more time with him.”

 “I didn’t know that” Shane said softly. 

“Because I never told you” Ilya shook his head “She also told me that Sergei was my biological father Grigori’s best friend, and that he and Sergei’s wife were together when they died.”

“What do you mean?” Shane asked, confused. 

“She didn’t accuse him of anything, but she didn’t need to. Grigori probably had an affair with Maria, Svetlana’s mother. They died together in a car accident. Svetlana was only two years old, and my mother was pregnant with me.”

 “Jesus Christ” Shane said.

“Yes” Ilya laughed weakly “Sergei proposed to my mother that they marry. They knew each other and got along well, they would face the grief and shame together. Svetlana would have a mother, and I would have a father, and so they did. After I was born, they moved here and built our life here. Do you understand, Shane? I couldn’t not go, that man gave me everything, he was my father, there was never another for me.”

“I understand that, Ilya, but what does this have to do with us?”

“I’ll get there.”

“Okay”

 “When we arrived in Russia, he called me aside and asked me not to keep in touch with you.”

“What?”Shane didn’t know what to feel. 

“He said it would be better for me if I left it in the past.”

“But why?” Shane insisted, confused and a little irritated. 

“Because I had feelings for you” Ilya whispered.

 “What?”

Ilya nodded, blinking rapidly to avoid tears threatening to well up in his eyes. 

“I had feelings for you, and my father noticed. He asked me to leave that behind because Russia isn’t like here, and it could be dangerous for me.” Ilya said, his expression desolate, as if he had just heard the words from his father’s mouth again.

“So you’re gay?” Shane asked, confused “And you had to pretend you weren’t?”

“No, I’m not gay, I’m bisexual.”

 “Oh.”

“But the hiding part, yes, a little.”

 “I don’t know what to say.”

 Ilya looked him in the eyes, gathering whatever courage he had left; he had waited 10 years to be able to say this: 

“Say you forgive me.”