Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Viktor
The text from Holly that I wake up to is short and cryptic.
HOLLY: Emergency at the sanctuary. I’m so sorry—I can’t get to Anchorage today. I’ll call to explain as soon as I can.
That was early this morning, around three a.m. Anchorage time.
It’s now nearly noon and I haven’t heard from her.
I tried to call her but it went straight to voicemail.
Part of me is annoyed but another part is worried. I don’t know what happened but I know Holly. She’s going to try and deal with whatever it is on her own because even though she needed my money, she hates being dependent on anyone.
Not even her husband.
This is one of the few things about our relationship that are problematic for me.
I’m not old-fashioned. Well, not too old-fashioned, but I do tend to be protective of what’s mine.
Right now—that includes my beautiful but stubborn wife.
Even if she divorces me tomorrow, today we’re still married and I still want to help.
“You’re quiet,” West says as we head out to a team dinner. “This have to do with Holly? Isn’t she supposed to be here today?”
I nod. “Something happen at sanctuary but I have not heard from her since early this morning. I am worried.”
“She won’t answer her phone?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Maybe Serena’s heard from her. Let me text her.” He pulls out his phone and starts to type.
We get on the bus that’s taking us to dinner and he finally says, “Serena hasn’t heard from her today either.”
“Shit.”
“She said she’s going to keep trying to reach out.”
I just nod, staring out the window absently, trying to come up with something serious enough to make her not come to Alaska.
She knows this potentially looks bad to me, to my parents, and even to my teammates.
The wives that can are all here. Many brought the kids.
We could potentially win the championship while we’re still in Anchorage so the families are here to support their partners.
Except mine.
I’m not particularly worried about optics at this point—we’re married and everyone knows it. But Holly has been so worried about making sure we don’t do anything to impact my career or standing with the team, not to mention the relationship with my parents, so she would be here if she could.
That’s the part that’s tripping me up.
She’s not petty.
I don’t like the way it went down but I understand why she went to New York and what her goals are. We haven’t been together long enough for her to trust me with her future, so she’s planning for the day I leave. The day we file for divorce, shake hands, and go our separate ways.
However, she wouldn’t ghost me in the middle of the championship without having a solid reason.
That’s what scares me.
If whatever happened is serious enough to make her risk the optics of our relationship, then I need to be there for her.
And I can’t.
I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours thinking about everything. Mostly, I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching, attempting to figure out what I really want. And the conclusions I’ve come to are both scary and eye-opening.
The plan has always been to move back to Russia.
Someday.
After retirement.
When I have more money put away than I’ll ever be able to spend, even if I never work again after hockey.
I’m lucky that the deal the Thunder offered me was life-changing.
Even before that, I lived simply. Sharing apartments or houses with teammates.
Hiring a financial planner who’s been fantastic about investments and my spending.
I have a lot of money, even after giving Holly a million dollars and buying a three-million-dollar house.
Unless I do something stupid, or develop some sort of drug or gambling addiction, I will always have money. The Blizzard paid me well—the Thunder gave me a five-year, thirty-million-dollar contract that is setting me up for life. I don’t have to worry about my future, or any future family I have.
Taking money out of the equation, and I know it’s a privileged situation to be in, I’ve thought about what’s next for me.
I love my job, my teammates, and this organization, so the big question mark is the personal side of things.
I have no problem being single. Getting laid is stupidly easy when and if I want it. Taking care of my parents isn’t a hardship—I’m grateful for everything they did to help me get where I am.
But do I want to continue playing the field?
Not now that I’ve found Holly.
She’s changed how I look at everything. The truth is—I can’t imagine moving into our big, empty house without her. Hell, I don’t even like that I’ve had to sleep alone the last two nights.
I miss her.
The sound of her voice. Her laugh. Her gentle smile. The silkiness of her skin. The sweetness of her lips. The way she’s almost always able to read my mind when I fumble for the right word in English. I didn’t think there was a woman out there like that for me.
I sat down last night and opened a blank document on my laptop. I literally made a list of every single thing I love about Holly. It had forty-eight items.
Then I typed out everything I don’t like about her. It only had one item: she doesn’t love me.
That’s it.
And that was when I realized I’m willing to do anything it takes to change her mind.
I made the decision to be honest with her when she got to Alaska. To open up about my feelings, how much I care for her, and the fact that maybe Russia isn’t the end game after all. Maybe she’s the end game.
Now she’s not coming.
I’m waffling between annoyance, frustration, and concern, because my gut tells me she’s in trouble. I don’t know how or why or what’s going on, but the man in me needs to make sure she’s safe.
If she’d answer the fucking phone, it would make things a lot easier.
Being so far away makes this exponentially more difficult.
Because I can’t stand it anymore, I get out my phone and call Kelly.
“Hey!” She sounds surprised to hear from me.
“I need a favor,” I say abruptly.
“Of course.”
“Listen, I know you don’t like Holly but—” I begin.
“Stop it,” she interrupts quietly. “She’s fine. I just don’t want her to hurt you, that’s all. I don’t have anything against her personally.”
“I appreciate that.” I hesitate. “Something happened. It’s complicated.
” I give her the very basics of our argument.
“I was waiting for her to arrive so we could talk about all the things I’ve been thinking about—and then she sent a very cryptic message about the sanctuary. And I haven’t heard from her since.”
She pauses a beat too long so I know there’s some kind of but coming.
“Are you sure this isn’t her being petty? Or even just being hurt and not wanting to fly to the other side of the continent and have to share a room and a bed with a man she believes doesn’t care about her? If it were me, I’d have to think about that.”
“Yes, but if you want to remove all emotion, I paid her a million dollars to be my wife. Not the sex part—I would never demand that and never have—but being at my side during the biggest games of my career is literally what I paid her for.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She hesitates again. “Okay, what do you need from me?”
“Can you take a ride out to the sanctuary? I want to know what’s going on. If it’s all shut up and no one is there, then maybe I have to consider that she wants out of our agreement.”
“All right. I can do that.”
“Thank you, Kelly.” I give her the name of the sanctuary, and she looks it up to get the address.
“It’s going to take me about forty minutes to get there.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yes, you will.” She chuckles. “All right, I’ll leave now and call you when I get there.”
“I’ll be at a team dinner but text me first and I’ll let you know if I can talk.”
“Got it.”
We disconnect and I get off the bus.
Now I have to think about hockey. The team. Put everything else out of my mind.
Once I hear from Kelly, I can decide what to do next.