34. April 4, Monday #2
“And then you came back into my life,” he said. “And suddenly the one thing I’d been pretending I didn’t want was all I could see.”
She looked away.
“I thought,” Ilya said quietly, “that if I stayed away, maybe if I made you hate me, it would protect you. Protect your future kids. Protect the team. Protect Mitch. Protect your job. I thought if I kept my hands off, I wouldn’t break anything.” He swallowed hard. “That was a lie.”
Her beautiful brown eyes snapped back to his.
“Staying away didn’t protect anyone.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “It just meant I wasn’t there when things hurt anyway.”
Zoey’s mouth trembled once before she pressed it firm.
“I missed Christian’s warning signs and told myself I was doing my job because I said the captain-sounding words,” he said, his face tight with shame.
“I let Kira send me a dozen texts without hearing her voice. I told Jason we’d talk and then didn’t follow through.
I promised a dog I’d help, and then I didn’t. ”
Ilya forced breath in, and out.
“Staying small and trying to control everything didn’t keep anyone safe. It just kept me from being honest. From living.”
He hesitated.
“The one time I reached for something I really wanted,” he ground out, voice roughening, “was you. And when it got hard, I ran exactly like him. I told myself stories about it being for your own good, but it was me being scared. Of failing. Of loving you as much as I do and not being able to keep you from hurt.”
Zoey’s face flickered. “As a reminder,” she said, voice thin, “you failed at not hurting me.”
“I know.” The admission scraped his throat. “I know I did. You asked me not to make that choice for you, and I did it anyway. I am so sorry, Zoey.”
Ilya reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the familiar crinkle.
“I thought a lot about this,” he said, unfolding the square of paper with shaking hands.
Her eyes dropped.
Jayden’s drawing looked even more lopsided in daylight. The crayon colors had blurred along the fold lines from being opened and closed so many times.
Zoey made a soft sound.
“Me plus Ilya equals team,” he said, thumb brushing the uneven letters. “That was how he saw us. I looked at this and all I could hear was my father saying, Don’t ever promise. People who make promises only ever break them.”
He swallowed hard. “I took that fear and used it as an excuse to walk away from the people who actually needed me to show up even when I was scared and try anyway.”
He folded the drawing back up and held it out to her.
“I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Her fingers shook as she took it.
“I can’t promise you there won’t be bad hits.
” His voice felt unnaturally low, stripped of its usual certainty.
“On the ice. In life. I can’t promise Jayden, or any kid, that nothing will ever go wrong under my watch.
But I can promise I won’t run when I’m afraid.
I can promise I’ll sit in the waiting room with you instead of leaving you there alone because I think my guilt is more important than your choice. ”
Zoey’s eyes shone.
“You told me loving me wasn’t something I got to decide for you.” Ilya took a slow breath. “That the risks you take with your heart should be your call.”
His mouth pulled into a humorless smile.
“You were right. I stole that from you. I don’t want to steal it anymore.”
“Why now?” Zoey asked, clutching the drawing. “What changed? Besides Christian waking up? Besides finding Fido and her puppies? Besides Jayden’s team telling me I might not be the right fit for a kid like Jayden?”
“My—what?” Alarm sliced through him, and he forced himself not to take a step toward her.
Zoey’s face stayed carefully still as she looked up at him.
“The head of Jayden’s team called me this morning.
She said I look like I’ll eventually be a good foster parent, but that I seemed a little too focused on Jayden specifically.
That I needed to remember my reasons for doing this.
That my current schedule and support system might not be conducive to a case like his right now. ” She delivered the words impassively.
Guilt stabbed through him. Of course, she had been in this alone too.
Fuck him twice.
Ilya’s heart started thrumming in his ears. His mind worked quickly, automatically, on how to fix this.
“No. No, that doesn’t make sense. You love Jayden.
You two connected. Really connected. She’s wrong.
You’re the perfect candidate. And your schedule…
” His thoughts scrambled, panicked and practical all at once.
“Your schedule is flexible. We can make it work. Nina can rearrange your after-work obligations. I can help. The guys can help with rides and childcare, and I only have a year left on my contract, maybe I can—”
“Ilya,” Zoey interrupted.
He stopped.
Her eyebrows were high. “She was right.”
He reared back.
Zoey shook her head and gave him a small, tired smile. “She was right. I pinned too much of my success onto whether I was able to take in Jayden. It would have proven I was living my dream. Working toward my goal. Moving forward.”
Her throat worked.
“That’s a lot to put onto a kid. Especially a kid who isn’t mine. A kid with a mother still working a plan and relatives still being assessed.”
Ilya’s stomach twisted. “But—”
“No.” Her voice stayed gentle, but firm. “I appreciate the unwavering loyalty. I do. But I don’t need you to storm the castle for me. I need you to listen.”
He closed his mouth.
Fuck. Right. Listen. A novel concept.
Zoey nudged his shin lightly with the toe of her shoe. “Though, for the record, the castle-storming impulse is very on brand.”
A sound escaped him, almost a laugh, but rougher. “I went straight to fixing.”
“You did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She folded Jayden’s drawing against her chest. “But that’s not what we’re talking about right now.”
No. It wasn’t.
He forced himself to refocus, even though every protective instinct in his body still wanted names, numbers, action items, and a color-coded plan to prove to some stranger that Zoey Williams was exactly the kind of person kids should get to come home to.
“The short answer,” he began, a tired smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, “is my sister told me I was being an idiot.”
A startled laugh slipped out of her. “Join the club,” she murmured.
“She told me I was doing to you what I’d spent my whole life resenting our father for.” He grimaced. “Leaving you to carry the weight. Making decisions for you. Treating myself like a loaded gun instead of a man who could choose to be careful.”
He let out a breath.
“She told me I didn’t get to use her mistakes, or his, as an excuse not to try.”
Zoey’s expression shifted. A little. Enough to keep him breathing.
“I’ve been telling everyone on the team to lean on each other, to be honest, to let themselves be loved,” he explained. “And I was the one hiding.”
He shook his head.
“If I’m serious about being the kind of captain I say I am, the kind of brother, the kind of partner, the kind of future father…
” He paused, swallowing hard. The word caught in him for a second before he pushed through it.
“Then I can’t keep letting fear call my plays.
I have to choose what I want and trust that I can grow into it, not wait until I’m perfect before I take a step. ”
Ilya scratched the back of his neck, unable to not fidget under her intense scrutiny.
“I’m not perfect, Not even close. But…” He took a breath that felt like stepping off a cliff. “What I want is you.”
Zoey’s grip tightened around the drawing.
“I want us,” he said, steadying. “Messy, not perfect, sometimes scary us. I want you in my kitchen, and your forgotten coffee mugs scattered around my…our…house, and your shoes in the hallway. I want to show up at work with dog hair on my pants and kids’ glitter in my beard and know that’s our life, not just a scene between games. ”
Her lips trembled.
“If that means more fear? Okay. I’ll learn to live with it. If it means nights in hospital waiting rooms? I’ll sit there with you. If it means changing how I move through this organization so you are not the only one carrying the professional risk? That I’ve already started.”
Zoey’s brows pulled together, alarm moving across her face. “What does that mean?”
“I talked to Sam. Nina. HR.” Ilya lifted a hand quickly when her eyes widened.
“I didn’t tell them private things. But I told them enough.
That we were together. That we may be together in the future, hopefully.
That I am responsible for my choices. That if safeguards are needed, they include me.
Not just you. No more hiding and letting you look like the problem. ”
Zoey stared at him for a beat, dread creeping into her voice. “Nina didn’t fire me in absentia, did she?”
Ilya shook his head, niggling guilt already there because he hadn’t talked to her first. “No. She said you will be in the room for any conversation about the clinic. She said that management has been very impressed with you. I think she’s excited to see how she can use your connection to me.
” He tried giving her a conspiratorial smile but it fell flat.
“Naturally, HR wants disclosure paperwork and stuff. I told them of course.”
Her throat worked. “And you decided to do that without talking to me first?”
His stomach did a little flip.
Shit.
He nodded once, watching her face carefully. “Yes and I apologize.”
Again.
He was really crushing this whole relationship stuff…Not.
She didn’t rescue him from the discomfort. Which was fine. He deserved the discomfort. People learned from discomfort.
“I thought about calling you first, but I was afraid that would become another thing you had to manage. A mess I brought to you to manage rather than taking responsibility. I don’t want to be Mitch for you. I don’t want to make you manage me.”
Ilya rubbed at his jaw, drawing a steadying breath that didn’t quite work.