Epilogue #2
And I…well, I still had no idea who I was outside of the group chat troll who had an uncanny ability to find the weirdest porn that people got addicted to watching.
But I was working on it. Vanya had joked about me becoming an architect for accessible homes, and at the time, I’d laughed. But now, I was wondering if maybe it was something I could do. I’d designed our house renovations, after all, and maybe…
Maybe that was a thing I could do.
I had time to decide.
I was barely reaching thirty, and I had the whole world in front of me, my past behind me, and Vanya pressed against my side, vowing to never let go.
I took his arm as we made our way toward the door, and I could hear voices beyond. Luckily, no one was ridiculous enough to suggest an actual surprise party, so I was met with a massive hug from arms I immediately recognized.
“I’m so proud of you,” Hugo whispered fiercely.
I knew he understood. He’d coached for a short while, but his experience with hockey mostly revolved around the man who made the PPHL possible. And I knew it was both pride and pain that kept him involved in it now.
“Thank you. That was harder than I expected.” I wasn’t really ready to process the way letting my jersey go made me feel. I’d do that later.
In private.
Where I could ugly cry and just let myself feel without anyone trying to comfort me.
The rest of my friends were all next—almost like a line of men who had spent the last several years reminding me that life was worth living. Most of them were happy now. In love. Moving on from whatever pain had once held them by the throats.
Tiago was last in the line. He smelled like Jonah had—fresh from the showers that only barely washed away the sweat from the season’s opener.
He didn’t seem too sore that they lost.
“Did you invite that fucking fucker?” he asked.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” I told him.
He groaned. “Ava or Ara or whatever his name is. That reporter guy who was there the night Vanya—” He stopped abruptly.
It had been over a year, but it was still a tender spot.
“That was probably Vanya. He and Ara are kind of friendly now.”
“Fucking gross,” Tiago spat. “That dude has spent all year basically accusing me of not being actually blind.”
“Go dip your balls in his drink,” I said.
“You’re so weird,” he answered with a laugh. “I’m going to miss playing against you.”
I was too. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not yet. Not until I’d processed that this part of my life was actually over. We hugged one more time before another hand took mine, and it was a moment before I recognized the grip of slender fingers and long nails that came to a sharp point.
“Katya.”
“My brother’s busy annoying Alexio, so I thought I would steal you for a moment. Tyoma wants to meet you, but he doesn’t want Vanya’s chaos there.”
I should have probably defended my boyfriend—my fiancé—but I understood what she was saying. And why Tyoma might want a private moment.
“He’s in the kitchen,” she said.
I grazed one hand along the wall, the other slightly in front of me so I didn’t crash into anyone, and followed Katya down the small hallway and to the right.
The kitchen was quiet, apart from the sound of the kettle boiling, and then I heard Tyoma clear his throat. We hadn’t met yet, but I’d talked to him a few times when Vanya called his siblings.
This felt strange though. The terrifying man who helped me take down the man who tried to ruin everything. I owed him my life, and I had no idea why he went so far out of his way.
“Micah,” he said. His voice was deeper than Vanya’s, a low, pleasant rumble.
I stuck out my hand, and he took it, but instead of shaking it, he pulled me in and pressed a kiss to each cheek.
I was still getting used to their way of greeting.
Jonah, Caleb, and I touched each other a lot out of necessity, but there was very little affection in our gestures unless shit was really bad.
“Sorry,” Tyoma said. “Is that too much?”
“No, no. Ah…it’s just been kind of a night.”
Katya laughed. “Yes, we watched the ceremony. You looked…”
I waited in silence for what she was going to say.
“Like you wanted to be anywhere else,” Tyoma filled in for her.
“Exactly,” she said. “I’ve seen that look. When Vanya starts singing his show tunes.”
I groaned, and they both laughed. Tyoma gently pressed his elbow to mine, which I appreciated. I wondered if Vanya had coached his siblings on how to interact with me.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” he said after a beat.
I startled. “Thank me? For what? Making your brother’s life harder?”
Tyoma sighed. “For loving him. For understanding him. I think most of us have worried most of our lives that Vanya wouldn’t find someone who cared for him the way he needed. He’s always worked too hard and gotten too little out of it. I knew right away this was different. That you were different.”
I didn’t know what to say other than I didn’t deserve that because I’d been a shit to him for so long. But I didn’t because Vanya and I had worked through that, and my therapist was helping me accept that Vanya had forgiven me for the moments I wasn’t the best to him.
And she was helping me recognize all the moments I wasn’t shitty—and hadn’t been since I realized just how much Vanya meant to me.
“I feel the same way about him,” was what I eventually said.
“Good.” He was quiet for another beat. “I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of monster.
I don’t normally go after people the way I did with this—” He said a word in Russian I didn’t understand, but I knew it wasn’t kind.
“When Vanya told me what he did to you—and then what he did to Vanya’s home—I couldn’t let that stand. ”
“All you did was get him caught,” I said.
Tyoma coughed, then cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course, that is all I did.”
I wasn’t going to ask. I knew too much already, and in truth, I didn’t give one whisper of a fuck what happened to Hunter now that he was gone.
They’d found evidence of his plans—what he wanted to do to me.
Rantings and ravings on his hard drive in both text and videos he’d never posted about his sick ass fantasies.
I had no idea if he ever planned to carry them out, and I never had to hear the details because he’d pled guilty, and the only time we were in the room with him was when he was being sentenced.
My lawyer thought that if I were face-to-face with the judge, he’d get the max sentence allowed. And he did.
And that had been enough for me.
But I didn’t care if Vanya’s family thought he deserved worse.
“You’re always welcome here. You know that, right?” I said.
He laughed. “Yes, Vanya has made that very clear. Over and over. He also sent me a long list of rules so things don’t change for you.”
“Oh. Well. I can deal if you—”
“No. We will try,” Tyoma said. “For family, we always try. Trust me, when you meet our parents and my brothers, you’ll understand.”
That was happening next week, and my face went hot. “Right.”
“Why you torture my fiancé?” came a booming voice from the kitchen doorway.
“Fiancé?” Tyoma said.
“Yes. I propose, he say yes. Get over it.”
“Well, congratulations, and I was just welcoming him to the family
Vanya was at my side, chirping in Russian to his brother, who simply laughed. “Go welcome someone else. Micah is mine.” Vanya’s arm came around me, pulling me close, and I sank into the warmth of his comfort.
Tyoma left the room without a goodbye, but his footsteps were loud, and I realized then that Katya had also disappeared at some point.
It should have irritated me that I didn’t know, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything other than happy.
“Regrets?” Vanya asked, pushing a lock of hair off my forehead. He grazed a tender touch over my cheek, down my jaw, and along the space just above the collar of my shirt.
“About tonight?”
“Or me? Life? All of it,” Vanya murmured.
“Just one,” I said. He stiffened in my arms, but I didn’t let the moment linger. I put my hands to either side of his jaw and stroked over his rough stubble. “That I didn’t tell you I loved you sooner. That I didn’t spend more time before this letting you know that you are perfect.”
“No. Not perfect.”
“You are for me. Accept it, babe.”
He snorted, then dipped his head down to kiss me. “Pretty little goalie of my heart.”
“Don’t be gross,” I bit out.
He nipped my lower lip. “You love it.”
I suppose I did, but I wasn’t going to let him win that easily. “Mostly, I love you.”
He smiled right up against my mouth. “Okay. I will take that. And I love you too.”