Chapter Eighteen #3
Matvei looked toward her phone near the bed.
“Give me phone.”
Tessa frowned. “Why?”
“Give.”
“You cannot order more food.”
“I do not need food.”
“You ordered enough for six people.”
“Phone.”
She stood and retrieved it, then handed it to him.
Matvei unlocked the screen.
It required a code.
He looked at her.
“I am not giving you my password.”
“Then open.”
Tessa entered it with the phone angled away from him.
“What are you doing?”
“Your number.”
“You do not have it?”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“How have we gotten this far without either of us noticing that?”
“I notice.”
“You could have asked.”
“I ask now.”
Matvei opened her contacts and added himself.
Matvei.
No surname. No team. No explanation.
He entered his number, then called himself.
His phone began ringing beside the bed.
Tessa looked at the screen in his hand.
“That feels surprisingly official.”
“It is number.”
“That does not make it less official.”
Matvei handed back the phone.
“Now you do not have to miss bus.”
“I missed the bus because I was working.”
“You could call.”
“And say what? Please escort me through Helsinki because I remain incapable of dressing for winter?”
“Yes.”
Tessa looked at the name in her contacts.
“We can’t text about work.”
“Why?”
“Because texts can be saved, forwarded or misunderstood.”
“Everything misunderstood.”
“That is exactly why.”
Matvei considered this.
“No work.”
“And nothing that would be a disaster if someone saw my phone.”
He looked toward her.
“What can say?”
Tessa thought for a moment.
“My coat.”
“Yes.”
“That was not permission to continue criticizing it.”
“I buy new.”
“No.”
“You need.”
“I am not accepting an expensive coat from a source.”
“I am not source.”
The words came before he considered them.
Tessa’s expression changed.
“At the rink, you are.”
Matvei looked down at their joined hands.
“Yes.”
The distinction bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
He understood why she needed it.
He did not like it.
“You text when home,” he said.
“You’ll get there first.”
“Then I text.”
She nodded.
“Carefully.”
“About coat.”
“Apparently.”
Matvei saved her number.
Tessa.
Only that.
The time reached ten-thirty before either acknowledged it.
Matvei’s phone showed seven missed calls and eleven messages.
Most came from Russia’s team manager. Two were from teammates asking whether he was alive. One from the captain contained only a photograph of Matvei’s empty chair at breakfast.
He typed that he was walking and would return in ten minutes.
The response arrived immediately.
Walking where, Sweden?
Matvei ignored it.
He dressed slowly.
Tessa watched from the bed, now wearing black trousers and a sweater. The sight of her returning to the version of herself he knew from arenas made the room change.
Her hair remained loose.
The difference mattered.
Matvei found his shoes beside the credential and carefully untangled the lanyard.
He held it toward her.
Tessa took it.
Their fingers touched.
For a second, neither released the plastic card.
Then she pulled it free and placed it inside the laptop bag.
Matvei put on his coat.
Tessa looked across the room.
“Your belt survived.”
“It is good belt.”
“Heavy.”
“Yes.”
She laughed softly.
Matvei wanted to kiss her before the mood changed.
He crossed the room and placed one hand against the side of her neck.
Tessa’s smile faded.
The kiss was slower than the ones from the night before. No urgency pushed it forward. No cold, hotel door or next decision waited behind it.
Only goodbye.
Tessa’s hands settled beneath his coat, resting at his waist. Matvei kissed her until the pressure of time became impossible to ignore.
When he pulled back, her eyes remained closed for a second.
“You come home tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Too long.”
Tessa opened her eyes.
“It’s one day.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll survive.”
“No.”
The answer made her smile, but sadness remained beneath it.
“What are you going to tell your teammates?”
“Nothing.”
“What if someone saw you come in?”
“They do not ask.”
“Because they respect your privacy?”
“No. Because I make them regret.”
Tessa laughed.
Matvei touched her cheek once.
“Text.”
“Carefully.”
“Yes.”
They stood there another moment.
Then Tessa stepped back.
The movement was small but necessary.
Matvei opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
He looked at her one final time.
Tessa leaned against the frame, arms folded loosely across herself. The hotel room behind her contained evidence of him everywhere. Rumpled sheets, two breakfast plates and the sweater she had worn before he removed it lying near the chair.
He wanted to go back inside.
He did not.
“Goodbye, Matvei.”
“Not goodbye.”
Her expression softened.
“See you in Halifax.”
“Yes.”
Matvei walked toward the elevator.
He looked back once before the doors closed.
Tessa remained in the doorway.
Crossing the street took less than a minute.
Matvei had walked the distance several times during the tournament. The hotels had seemed nearly connected from Tessa’s window, separated only by a narrow road and the old bar between them.
Now each step returned him to public life.
Russia’s hotel lobby was crowded with players, staff and luggage. Equipment bags lined one wall. Team employees moved between groups checking names against a list. Several teammates sat near the entrance wearing identical tracksuits, drinking coffee and looking exhausted.
The captain noticed Matvei first.
He looked at the clock above the desk.
“Nice walk?”
“Yes.”
The captain narrowed his eyes.
Matvei walked past him.
“Where were you?”
“Outside.”
“In Finland?”
“Yes.”
A defenseman laughed from the nearby couch.
The captain followed Matvei toward the elevator.
“You are wearing yesterday’s clothes.”
“So are you.”
“I slept in mine.”
“Bad choice.”
The elevator opened.
Matvei stepped inside.
The captain remained in the lobby, still watching him.
“Belly.”
Matvei looked back.
The captain pointed toward his own neck.
Matvei’s hand moved automatically toward the skin beneath his collar.
Nothing was there.
The captain smiled.
Matvei showed him one finger before the doors closed.
He returned to his room.
Someone had placed his travel bag in the hallway outside, already tagged for the airport. Inside, the bed was untouched. The room looked sterile after Tessa’s, no notebooks, wet towel or second coffee cup showing that another person had occupied it.
Matvei gathered the final items from the bathroom and placed his passport inside his coat.
His phone vibrated.
He expected another message from the team manager.
Tessa’s name appeared instead.
Matvei opened it immediately.
Tessa: You forgot your watch.
He looked down. His wrist was bare.
Matvei stared at it.
A photograph followed.
The watch lay beside Tessa’s laptop.
Matvei smiled.
He typed:
Matvei: Keep. I come get in Halifax.
The response took longer.
Three dots appeared, disappeared and returned.
Tessa: I think you did that on purpose.
Matvei looked toward the window.
Across the street, her curtains remained open. He could not see far enough into the room to find her.
Matvei: Maybe.
Her answer arrived before he placed the phone down.
Tessa: See you in Halifax.
Matvei read it twice.
Then he put the phone inside his pocket, left the empty hotel room and went downstairs to join the team.