Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ETHAN
It isn't until I have to do without Jamie that I realize how much he's become part of my daily life.
It's not just having him at home or the regular sex – that has all been a fairly recent revelation.
Instead, I feel it most when we travel with the team.
I've grown used to having him next to me on every flight – sleeping, reading, watching film.
No matter what, it makes the trip go faster.
When he starts sitting with Matty, Lindy, Sutter, and Gags, I feel...lost. That first time, I look around like a dog missing his owner, wondering what on Earth I'll do with myself for the three hour flight to Seattle.
Now, on our way back home from the road trip, it feels like I should be used to it. Aside from that first night at the hotel, I haven't seen him much at all on this trip.
I'm not used to it. I don't want to be used to it.
I know he assured me that we would talk about this after the Break, that it wasn't “goodbye” so much as “see you later”. But here in this seat, all by myself? It feels like goodbye.
Like he did on the way out, Alexei sits down next to me, shoving his backpack under the seat in front of him.
I can't believe how wrong it feels – up until Coach's dictate earlier this season, Alexei had been my seatmate for nearly a decade.
For God's sake, I've ridden next to him on the way to Stanley Cup Finals games.
Still, right now he feels very much like a consolation prize.
I can't help but let my eyes drift to the back of the plane, where Jamie is sitting next to Lindy.
He has a book out, but his eyes seem to be focused out the window.
He hasn't been himself this week, the light seemingly leached out of him.
Our play has suffered, and I can sense the tension in our teammates as they wonder what the hell has happened.
Hell if I know. One day I was in a locker room telling the kid to be less...himself, and the next I was in his hotel room, trying to post about my sexuality on Instagram. It happened so slowly, and then all at once.
Next to me, Alexei clears his throat, and I turn my gaze back to him.
“Ethan, I think we need to have dinner together tonight.”
For all that he is my best friend, the idea sounds painful to him. Like something he's forcing himself to do.
“Sure, that would be nice. Maybe the Greek place by the arena?”
He pauses, as though trying to gather his words.
“No. I think this will be a conversation for your house.”
That sounds serious. I assumed he just wanted to keep me distracted. I didn't think he had an agenda for this meeting.
“You got something you need to say to me?”
“We'll talk tonight, Ethan.”
We land back in Minneapolis at 5 PM. As I grab my bag from the luggage cart, I feel Alexei sidle up beside me.
“I’ll grab the food and meet you at your place?”
I had really hoped he’d let this go, but I’m not that lucky.
“Um, sure. Yeah.”
He grabs his bag off the pile and heads toward the parking lot, not even waiting for me to follow.
Over the past week, Alexei hasn't exactly abandoned me – certainly not like Jamie has.
But even though he sits near me on the plane, it isn't the same.
I suppose that's at least somewhat my fault – after all, I haven't exactly been a good friend to him this year, either.
I let myself get caught up, first in my anxiety over Jamie joining the team, then in the joy I found being around him.
Now he's gone – worse yet, not really gone – and I realize I've neglected Alexei's friendship in the meantime.
As I pull into the garage, I make a promise to myself that I will do better. I will have this serious talk Alexei seems to want, and I will prioritize our friendship.
I barely have time to sort out the clothes in my bag before I hear the buzz at the door.
Alexei stands there, arms full of bags, the smells of lamb and dill strong.
It seems that he's gone to the Greek place after all.
I open the door wide, leading him through to the kitchen.
We open up the food, dishing it out onto our plates.
As we sit at the barstools, I hope that he'll hold off on whatever he wants to say until we finish dinner. As with most things these days, luck doesn't seem to be on my side.
“So how did you fuck this up, Ethan?”
I grimace at the words, at the truth held within them – I've fucked this up. I am a fuck up.
I think of what to say to Alexei, how to explain this whole thing to him. A few times, I draw in a breath as if to start, but I never seem to find the words.
“Do you...not know?” His tone is softer now, almost concerned.
I shake my head, then nod it, not sure which answer is the right one.
“I know.”
I take several more deep breaths, then start at the beginning.
“It was never supposed to be...something. When I first suggested we get together, it was just...convenient, you know? A way for us both to stay out of the press.”
“And he was okay with that?”
I snort, thinking back to the look on his face at the club after I propositioned him.
“No, he most certainly was not okay with that.”
“So what happened?”
I take my plate to the sink, rinsing it and putting it into the dishwasher. I stay there, faced away from Alexei.
“I...liked him. Just as a player, then as a friend. And then...as more.”
He brings his plate over, repeating my motions.
“You are allowed to like him, Ethan.”
My chest aches at his words.
“Am I? I'm not sure that's true, Alexei.”
At least he doesn't disagree, at least not out loud.
“So he wanted you to come out?”
It's a reasonable thought. Hell, it's what I expected, too. Jamie had sacrificed so much to be out, it would make sense for him to want to be able to live out loud.
Instead, he'd been nothing but understanding. Hell, in that last fight, he'd even stopped me from doing something stupid, from coming out without preparation.
“No. The only time it came up, he was actually against it.”
Alexei looks confused at this.
“He was right. I was using it to end a fight. It wasn't...the right motivation.”
Alexei looks at me for a long moment.
“What is the right motivation, Ethan?”
I look at him, a little confused at his question. He continues.
“I don't know the answer to this. It's been something I wondered since I, uh, figured this out. How do you want to come out? Do you?”
Once I thought I knew the answer to questions like these. But then, as the years passed, the answers changed. No, never became Not until after I retire. And then, seemingly overnight, More than anything.
“I don't know what it is like for you, Ethan. I want to know. But I can't imagine...lying about myself constantly like that.”
My reaction to that is visceral.
“I'm not a liar.” The words come out strong, almost angry.
Alexei looks at me, his eyes soft, almost...pitying? That hurts more than his anger did.
He licks his lips, and looks like he's considering his words carefully. It reminds me of our first years playing together, when English was still a daily struggle for him. I wonder for a moment if that's what brought us together – two men struggling with what to say.
“Perhaps is wrong word. But you know this thing about yourself, yes? This truth? And yet you do not say it, even when asked. Is that not a lie?”
My chest tightens, and I recognize the feeling. Shame.
I stand up, walking in long strides to the living room, as though I can run away from the feeling. It shouldn't surprise me when it follows me – it always does. I look out the window, swiping a hand over my face. Behind me, I can feel Alexei's presence.
“You'd be surprised.”
He looks at me, confused.
“No one asks, Alexei. I don't lie because hardly anyone ever asks.”
This had been the most shocking thing to me in the NHL. I had expected more questions – why don't I date? Why am I not married? Where's my girlfriend?
And at first, there had been a few – mostly good-natured, just teammates getting to know me. But after a season or two of never having a date, it just...stopped. At the time, I had told myself that there were new rookies to get to know, that I had become the boring old guy.
Now, I wonder if they already knew.
“Do you know the last time someone asked if I was seeing someone?”
Alexei's eyebrows scrunch together, as though he's thinking hard.
“It was in October? November? For the charity thing.”
It feels like another lifetime, sitting on that plane next to Jamie as the boys chirped me about my clothes.
“No. As you'll recall, Mac just said to tell him if I needed Hailey to get me someone.”
I can tell the words hit him, as his look turns soft again.
“For the record, Jack didn't even check with me before getting me that stupid Minneapolis Monthly article.”
The softness is tinged with surprise.
“Can you imagine? You have boyfriend no one knows about and that's how they find out? Because he objects to Sarah Gentry trying to find you a wife?”
I snort at that, the image so ridiculous it gets through my self-pitying frame of mind.
“I think...I think people don't want to know, Alexei. So they don't ask, just in case one day I decide I want to tell them.”
He presses his lips together, looking out the window. At first, I wait for a response, but none seems to be coming. Instead, I stand next to him, looking out at the sun setting over the Twin Cities skyline.
“Do you want to tell them?”
Well, if that isn't the question that's been running through my mind for the past eight days.
I acknowledge that I wasn't in a good place when I opened Instagram during that fight, that coming out then, like that, would have been a disaster both personally and professionally.
But the more I think about it, the more I realize it might also have been...
a relief? As much as I argued with Alexei over the word liar, I know deep down that's exactly what I've been doing.
Lying about myself to every single person I know, keeping them at arm's length in case they discover the truth.
And it's exhausting.
As terrifying as it was for Jamie to learn the truth back in September, it was also freeing. To know there was at least one person in the world who liked me – or, at the time, hated me – for entirely true and valid reasons. One person who knew me.
I look at Alexei, thinking back to telling him in that restaurant over Christmas, and then to him knowing not only about me, but also about me and Jamie. To have my best friend in the world know it all and still want to be my best friend.
“Yeah. I want people to know. I want to stop lying.”
He brings his arms around me, hugging my stiff body to him until the stiffness leaves, until I settle into the hug and bring my own arms up and around his waist.
“Well, then. I think we need a plan.”