Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Holly
The series against Alaska will take Viktor out of town for a week. They leave Sunday. Monday is a day to rest. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday are games three, four, and five. They come home Sunday. Monday is game six in Atlanta, unless Alaska manages four wins before then.
My interview is Tuesday. I have to fly up Monday, and they’re planning to take me to dinner, introduce me to some of the higher-ups. I’m assuming the special treatment is because they know who my father is, but I can’t worry about that now.
I have a degree and experience in finance. The job is a good fit for me. I could potentially do well, make a lot of money, and the upside is that I’d be far away from my father.
But that’s also the downside.
Because it will mean being away from Viktor.
I honestly can’t understand how we got from point A to point B, and I am acutely aware that one conversation could potentially fix everything.
But what if it doesn’t and I get in his head and somehow fuck up hockey for him?
If it were at any other time of the season, I would have talked to him already.
Just not now.
And I’m caught between the proverbial rock and hard place because not talking to him is probably getting in his head too.
His coldness last night hurt, so I couldn’t face him this morning.
I don’t know what’s happening between us. How we went from genuinely building something to…coldness and secrets and distance.
I’m just reading another email from the company in New York when I hear Viktor’s step outside the door. I quickly close the laptop and look up from where I’m sitting cross-legged on the bed.
And all I see in the doorway is a humongous bouquet of roses that essentially covers all over Viktor’s upper half.
A laugh escapes me and I slowly get up.
“What in the world?” I ask softly.
He peeks around the pink and white roses sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he says in a gruff voice.
And just like that, the hurt melts and I see the man I’ve fallen in love with. My husband. My savior. The stranger who stepped in when I literally had no one else to turn to.
“Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly choked up. I reach for the bouquet and pull in a deep whiff of the fragrant flowers. “They’re beautiful.”
“I was ugly last night,” he says, eyes trained on mine. “I was angry at everything but it was not right to behave this way. Not with you.”
I don’t say anything because I can’t trust my voice. This is completely unexpected and now I feel even worse about the secret I’ve got.
“You have been nothing but sweet and kind, and I treated you like…afterthought. I promise you, I will never do this again. And if I do, you must remind me of this conversation.”
I sigh.
Not because I don’t believe him but because I’m completely overwhelmed.
“This is also for you,” he continues, holding out two gift bags—one from Godiva and one from a well-known jeweler in town.
I open the chocolate first, because that’s safer, and smile. “My favorite,” I say quietly. “Thank you.”
“I was not sure,” he admits. “But I thought maybe you would like something exotic. They are limited edition.”
“I’ve never tried these but I’m sure they’re wonderful.” I look at the jeweler’s bag and open it carefully. The rectangular velvet box inside tells me it’s either a necklace or bracelet and I open the top slowly.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
The tennis bracelet is even bigger than the one I sold after Nathan lost all my money. And it’s absolutely breathtaking.
“Viktor,” I whisper. “It’s…beautiful. I don’t even know what to say.”
“I can put it on?”
“Yes. Please.” I hold out my wrist and note that my hand is shaking a little.
He fastens the clasp and I stare at it in wonder.
I don’t deserve this.
I have to tell him about New York and—”
“I have one more gift.” He’s more tentative this time and very slowly holds out the big gift box.
It’s from Build-A-Bear.
Oh, shit.
I look at him and he nods hopefully.
Very carefully, I open the box and—there’s the cutest, sweetest little hockey player wearing skates and holding a stick. And a note that says, “Inside this bear is my heart—so you can hold it close even when I am not there.”
Tears puddle in my eyes and drip down my cheeks.
“No.” He immediately yanks me into his arms. “Please do not cry. I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you!” He’s holding me close, face buried in my hair again, just like last night.
“Viktor—this is too much!” I whisper. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yes. It was necessary. You are not just a casual lay. You’re my wife. I was disrespectful. It was not fair.”
Nothing about this is fair.
“I love him,” I whisper, clutching the bear in one hand. “He’s the sweetest gift anyone has ever given me.”
“You forgive me?”
“Always.” I close my eyes and breathe in the faint scent of his aftershave. Drinking in his warmth and his strength and everything else that makes my husband the man he is.
I have to tell him about New York.
Even if it ruins everything.
Because it’s not fair to keep this from him.
“Viktor.” I slowly pull away, eyes searching his face. “I have to tell you something.”
I see a flicker of concern. Not anger, not fear, just concern. Because that’s who he is.
“Tell me.”
I stare for a beat. “I have a job interview.”
“Yes?” He smiles. “This is good, no? What you wanted?”
“Well…sort of.” I pull in a shaky breath. “It’s in New York.”
“What?” He looks confused.
“If I get the job, it’s in Manhattan. I would have to…move there.”
He frowns. “But…”
“I know.” The words start to tumble out in a rush. “It’s just a really good job. On Wall Street. The pay is incredible and I could really build a career there! It’s everything I could want professionally.”
He doesn’t say anything, those beautiful green eyes searching my face.
“It’s not guaranteed that I’ll get it,” I continue. “But it would mean financial independence for me once…our agreement is over.”
He stares, his expression inscrutable.
“I know it’s not ideal but it could work for us,” I say hurriedly. “Like, I take this great opportunity in New York, so we’d be doing the long-distance thing and then, when it’s time to divorce, we can blame it on the distance. It would make breaking up that much easier.”
“Breaking up.” He says it so quietly I almost miss it. But I don’t miss the flatness in his tone or the way his face goes blank. Like he’s masking something. The Viktor I love is gone and in his place now is Viktor-the-stoic-Russian-goaltender.
Oh fuck, what have I done?
“What day is the interview?” he asks finally.
“I have to fly up Monday.”
“So, you will not come to Alaska.” He says it with such finality my heart cracks a little.
“No, I can fly out Wednesday and be there for Thursday and Saturday,” I say quickly. “Unless, you don’t want me to go…?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. “It is your decision. Just tell me so I can change flight.”
“You already bought my ticket?” Now I feel even worse.
Could I have blundered this any more badly than I have?
“Is not problem. First class. Easy to change.” He starts to turn away.
“Viktor, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I would get an opportunity like this. And it means I don’t have to rely on you as much.”
“We had agreement. To rely on me was my part of agreement. But I understand. You want independence.”
“I want…”
You.
That’s what I should have said but the word dies in my throat.
“What do you want, Holly?” He meets my gaze directly and I stare back helplessly.
How can I tell him how I feel?
How do I put it out there when our future is so uncertain?
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I whisper.
He nods. “I understand. Is okay. If you get the job, you can rebuild your life. This is important.”
Not as important as you.
I don’t know why I can’t tell him that either.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask.
“Yes, of course.” He shifts from one foot to the other.
“What happens when you retire from hockey?”
“I cannot think about that. I hope to play for a long time.”
“I know but…what is your general plan? Do you look for another job in hockey? Do you go back to Russia? You must have a loose plan.”
“Of course, I will go back to Russia. Russia is home. This is always my plan.” And with that, he turns and walks out of the bedroom.
The tears come so fast I can’t stop them, and as I sink onto the edge of the bed, I realize I’m still clutching the bear.
And my heart breaks all over again.