Rule #3: Never Fake Marry the Coach’s Son (Hockey Rules #3)

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

D mitri

I’m not sad. I had a great time in the US. The best time.

I reach my gate. I wish that I had told Oskar to join me after all. But we said our goodbyes already, and I don’t want to get on a plane to Moscow crying. I don’t know if the media will be there to see me, but I just can’t have that happen.

My phone buzzes.

OSKAR: Are you through security yet?

DMITRI: At my gate. I miss you already.

OSKAR: I miss you already too.

My heart patters and I stare at my phone and the abundance of emojis he just entered.

We were friends first and we’ll still be friends. It’s not the relationship I want with him. At some point he’s going to tell me he met someone, and I’ll say I’ll be happy, and perhaps I really will be. I’ll want the best for Oskar.

My heart aches. It’s not the US I’ll miss the most. It’s Oskar.

Maybe it was always him.

I dart my gaze around the waiting area for the gate. Couples sit beside each other. How have I never noticed how many people go through life in pairs?

I call Oskar.

“Dmitri?” He answers on my first ring.

My heart thuds. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh.” I hear the smile in his voice. “I like hearing your voice too.”

Something about the call feels strange, though. His words seem to be coming out in small pants.

I frown. “Are you exercising?”

He giggles. “Sort...of.”

I think I hear people around him too.

And that’s good... I didn’t want to say goodbye to him at the airport because I thought I might start bawling or something in public, and he decides to go to the gym instead.

“Um exercise is important,” I say. “So that’s good.”

Maybe he can hear the sadness and confusion in my tone.

“Dmitri, look behind you,” Oskar says on the phone, his words still coming out slightly breathless.

I blink.

He wouldn’t...

No...

Hope that I might see him again wars with the reality that I’ve probably misinterpreted what he said or something.

I jerk my head behind me, and there he is.

My Oskar. At the fucking airport.

He’s wearing the same clothes he wore when I said goodbye, though his hair is tousled, and his cheeks pink.

Relief bubbles through me, and I stretch out my arms. Oskar quickens his pace and jumps into my arms. His legs encircle my waist, and I see other passengers gazing in our direction, some puzzled, some with soft expressions, and some frowning.

Never mind them.

I turn my focus to the most amazing man in the world.

“Oh, God. You came to say goodbye in person.”

I kiss his lips, and maybe I will be bawling when the flight attendant tells me it’s time to board but it’s worth it. Feeling his warm body against my chest will always be worth it.

I kiss his lips, melding into his warm mouth. I am home, at least now.

Oskar pulls away. “So, um...”

He slides down my legs, and if I didn’t know better maybe I would think he was embarrassed.

Maybe the public display of affection was too much?

I frown. “How did you pass through security? Don’t you need to show a boarding pass?”

His cheeks flame. “I got one.”

“For the international terminal?” I smooth his hair. “International tickets aren’t cheap. I appreciate it.”

“So you’re happy to see me?”

“Of course I am.” I frown. He’s acting weird, but this whole situation is weird.

Maybe my head was in the sand, but I believed that we would be able to find a solution that didn’t involve me being deported.

“I love you, baby,” I say.

His eyes glisten. “I love you too.”

He steps away, and for some reason, he still seems nervous. “I really love you, Dmitri. And I still want us to be married. I still want us to be together.”

“I can’t be here, baby,” my voice cracks.

His fingers flutter, then he squares his shoulders. “But I can go with you.”

Joy explodes in my heart, and I take his hands in mine. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I crush my forehead to his, and I tighten my grip around his hands. I inhale. I don’t want to say what I’m about to say.

But it’s the right thing to do. I need to protect Oskar. He matters more than anything.

I pull away. “I can’t let you do that, baby. Russia doesn’t approve of gay relations. I don’t want to move you away from your home, your job for me. We can pretend to be roommates, but we’re already in the news there. It’s not safe for you.”

I drop my hands. “I love you so much. Please know that.”

“Actually...” Oskar smiles. “Actually, I had something else in mind.”

I stare.

He stares.

“I’m a Swedish citizen, Dmitri. And you’re my husband. You have a right to accompany me there.”

“Oh.” I blink. Hope starts to fill me, but I gaze at him uncertainly, too scared that I’m building a future in my head with him that he doesn’t mean to give me.

“You’ll still need a visa and residency permit.”

“Oh.” I force the hope building in my chest away.

“But it’s a straightforward application.”

“The US government didn’t think we were a real couple.”

“We are though,” Oskar says. “We can live there. Together. If you, um...”

“But your job is here. Your family is here. Your friends.”

“You’re my best friend, Dmitri. I-I know it sounds crazy. It’s a new language for you to learn, and um, maybe it’s too much— “

“It’s not too much,” I say quickly. “I want a life with you. If you don’t mind...”

Oskar smiles. “I grew up in Sweden. It would be nice to return. Maybe later we can move to the US or something. I wouldn’t give up hope. But I can’t offer you the NHL. Or even a similar spot on a Swedish team—”

“Hey.” I take his hands in mine. “I have some skills. I bet I could do coaching. And I have savings.” I tuck a strand of hair over his face. “If you are really up for doing that—”

“I am. You’re my husband, Dmitri. I want to be where you are.”

“Good.” We stare at each other. “How long does it take for me to get a residency permit in Sweden?”

His face pinkens. “So, um, I actually had another idea.”

“I like your ideas so far.”

“I bought us tickets to Turkey.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Turkey?”

“We don’t have to go. At least I got to talk to you in person.”

I smile. “Why did you buy us tickets to Turkey, baby?”

“They have visa on arrival for Russians,” Oskar says. “I did research in the Uber. There’s a flight in an hour. We can go to Istanbul, see the sights, and apply for your residency permit to Sweden. I-I know it’s crazy...”

I pull him toward me. “Is genius. Absolute genius.”

He grins happily.

I take his hands in mine. “I love you.”

“I-I love you too.”

I look around at the passengers waiting at the gate. “Guess I have to break the bad news to the flight attendant that my bag needs to be unbranded.”

“Bad boy,” Oskar says, taking my hand in his.

“You’re corrupting me. I was a sweet, innocent passenger.”

He giggles, and it’s the sweetest noise in the world.

We’re going to live a life together, wherever in the world that might be. The important thing is that we’re together.

I squeeze his hand, my heart light with happiness.