Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

Relationships:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander, Kate (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

POV Outsider, Neighbors, Canon Compliant, Spoilers for Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers), Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, Hiding in Plain Sight, Hiding, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Fluff, Family Fluff, Wholesome, Idiots in Love

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-25 Words: 5,619 Chapters: 1/1

one day you will understand

Summary

“Can I ask you something?”

There’s a flash of what looks like fear that crosses Ilya's face before he sits back, his posture slightly closed off as his arms cross in front of his chest. “Depends on what it is,” he says, eyes somewhat steely.

She gets why people are intimidated by him on the ice.

“Why Ottawa?” She knows it’s something everyone has been asking, but she feels like it’s a legitimate thing to ask. “I mean, I get maybe you’re not happy in Boston, but you could have gone anywhere.”

“Not anywhere,” he says with an almost pout.

“But almost anywhere.”

He lets out a long breath of air through his nose. “I know it does not make sense, but it should not have to make sense to anyone but me.”

Kate tilts her head to the side, appraising him from across the table. “That’s not an answer.”

Ilya shrugs, but he holds her gaze steadily. “Maybe one day you will understand. But for now, know I am where I am supposed to be.”

And who is she to argue with that?

__

Or, everyone asks 'why Ottawa?' Ilya's neighbor, Kate, just happens to figure it out first.

Notes

Let's just all pretend that Ilya's driveway isn't as private as he thinks it is.

“Hello,” Ilya Rozanov says from Kate’s porch one August afternoon. “I am Ilya Rozanov. I am your new neighbor, and I just want to introduce myself.”

Kate manages to keep the shock mostly off her face. Afterall, she’s heard rumors from some of the other people in the neighborhood that Ottawa’s newest star hockey player had bought the house for sale next door, but still, seeing him standing at her door in the flesh is kind of surprising. 

He’s tall and broad with sandy brown hair that curls at his temples. His hazel eyes meet hers without hesitation, but there’s a touch of nervousness about him that doesn’t at all match the fuck boy energy she’s seen him portrayed as for years. She’s almost instantly endeared, a genuine smile on her face as she extends her hand.

“Hi,” she says as his huge hand engulfs hers in a gentle shake. “I’m Kate, it’s lovely to meet you. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

When he drops her hand, he holds out his other one, revealing an expensive-looking bottle of vodka. “This is for you,” he says. “If you do not drink, feel free to throw it away or give it to someone else.”

“Can I just pretend it’s water instead?” Kate asks, and she’s relieved to see him finally smile back. 

“I will not tell anyone,” he says with a wink.

“I’m glad my secret is safe with you,” she tells him, and then thinks to add, “We’re all really glad you’re here. We’ve had season tickets for years, but now we’ll hopefully win some.”

He seems to perk up even more at this news. “I will look forward to seeing you at games, then,” he says, and it sounds like he means it. “It was nice to meet you, and if there’s ever anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

“You can come over for dinner tomorrow night,” she says without thinking, but not at all regretting it, especially when a look of shock crosses his face. She just gets the feeling he could use a home-cooked meal. “My husband is going to grill out, and my kids would love to meet you.”

He brightens instantly at the mention of kids, and Kate is even more sure that her initial read of Ilya Rozanov is good. 

“Okay,” he nods and gives her a toothy grin that she can’t help but return. “I would like that.”

oOo

As soon as Ilya walks through the door the next evening, he’s whisked away by Willa and Andrew (as soon as they’ve gotten over their initial star-struck reactions) to join a fierce karaoke battle happening in the living room. 

Kate giggles as Ilya’s head bounces back and forth between her children as they decide on a song for him to sing. She’s pleased to see there’s never a bit of hesitation in whether he’s going to participate.

They finally land on some song they’ve been hearing nonstop on the radio. Cake by the Ocean, she thinks it’s called. 

“Are you sure this is appropriate song?” he asks skeptically.

To which Willa rolls her eyes and answers in all of her seven-year-old wisdom, “There’s nothing inappropriate about cake.”

When they sit down to eat, Kate watches as he eats with a gusto one would expect from a professional athlete, but he doesn’t ask for more until she takes his plate without asking and piles more of everything onto it. 

The look he gives her is full of quiet gratitude. 

“I can’t imagine you get many meals like this being on the road so much,” she says.

“I don’t, no,” he replies. “Is very good, thank you so much for having me.”

When her husband goes to take Willa and Andrew up for bed, Kate brings Ilya a rocks glass with a generous serving of the vodka he’d brought over the day before. He nods in thanks, and they sit across from each other at the table in quiet for a few moments. 

He’s more relaxed than he’d been when he first arrived, and she attributes that mostly to the kids. 

“You’re really great with kids,” she says, and she can see his lips curve against the rim of his glass. 

“I love kids,” he says simply. 

“You’re not at all like I imagined you’d be,” she can’t help but say just before she takes a sip of her own drink.

His expression suddenly looks guarded. “Is that a compliment?” 

Kate takes the time to let the vodka burn down her throat. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with how I thought you were. You’re just different,” she says. “Softer, I think. It’s nice.”

Ilya rolls his head from side to side like he’s trying to loosen the muscles there. “People see what they want to in me,” he replies. “Is not my job to correct them.”

"That must be frustrating.” 

“It can be,” he says with a sigh. “But sometimes it is useful, too.” 

She’s not sure what that means, and she feels like he wouldn’t answer even if she asked. But it brings another question to her mind. “Can I ask you something?”

There’s a flash of what looks like fear that crosses Ilya's face before he sits back, his posture slightly closed off as his arms cross in front of his chest. “Depends on what it is,” he says, eyes somewhat steely.

She gets why people are intimidated by him on the ice.

“Why Ottawa?” She knows it’s something everyone has been asking, but she feels like it’s a legitimate question and she's curious. “I mean, I get maybe you’re not happy in Boston, but you could have gone anywhere.”

“Not anywhere,” he says with an almost pout.

“But almost anywhere.”

He lets out a long breath of air through his nose. “I know it does not make sense, but it should not have to make sense to anyone but me.”

Kate tilts her head to the side, appraising him from across the table. “That’s not an answer.”

Ilya shrugs, but he holds her gaze steadily. “Maybe one day you will understand. But for now, know I am where I am supposed to be.”

And who is she to argue with that?

“Well, regardless, again, we’re happy you’re here,” she says softly, and she’s glad to see the muscles in his shoulders relax when he realizes she’s not going to press. “And please come over and play with the kids any time.”

“I will,” he says, and she has no doubt he means it. 

oOo

It’s the season opener, and when Kate hands their tickets over to the gate agent, they ask them to go to the ticket office. 

“Your tickets have been upgraded for the season,” a manager tells her, and Kate’s mouth hangs open in shock and confusion. “Mr. Rozanov insisted you all have the best seats.” 

And considering they’re now right on the glass, he wasn’t kidding. 

She’s still trying to get over their new seating arrangements when Ilya spots them. He skates over with the biggest grin as Willa and Andrew jump up and down. 

“How do you like your seats?” he asks them, and then his shoulders shake with laughter at their enthusiastic responses.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Kate practically has to shout over the blasting music. 

“Your potato salad was so good, it was the least I could do,” Ilya replies with a wink. He then tosses a puck to both the kids. “If I score tonight, I get to choose first for karaoke next time, got it?”

He gets nods from them both and waves before he skates off to keep warming up.

The kids lose their minds when he scores in the second period, and the arena is filled with the song he’d sung at that first dinner. He beams and points to them, pride blooming on his face, and even though they don’t win the game, they all leave the arena happier and more hopeful to be Centaurs fans than they have been in years.

oOo

They keep going to games and sitting right on the ice, and Ilya comes over semi-regularly for dinner when he’s not on the road. 

It’s been lovely getting to know him, and their game day ritual of greeting him in the driveway with signs and support has become a favorite for all of them. 

He seems happy most of the time, and he absolutely lights up when he sees them, but Kate would be lying if she said she isn’t slightly worried about him being alone most of the time. 

Being a huge hockey fan, it’s impossible not to know of Ilya’s reputation. She’d seen countless photos and videos of him leaving clubs with women on social media over the years. But it's nothing she’s witnessed from him since he’s been in Ottawa, and she gets the feeling he might be lonely sometimes. 

He never talks about his family, and doesn’t talk much about friends outside of his teammates, and Kate isn’t one to pry. It’s one of the reasons she keeps inviting him for dinner and going to games even when it’s not super convenient. She wants him to have someone there for him because she can’t imagine coming to a new city and country with no support system and almost no time to even attempt to build one. 

And then one afternoon, when she’s driving back from a meeting, she notices a Jeep Cherokee parked in Ilya’s large circle drive that appears to have Québec plates. 

Wonder who he knows from Québec, she wonders to herself, but doesn’t really think that much of it, mostly just glad he has someone visiting him. 

But the next day, as she’s watching TV, an advertisement comes on for Jeep that features Shane Hollander, the center for Montreal. He drives the car over snowy terrain with a serious face as a voiceover talks about its ability to handle tough situations in all climates.

She knows she’s seen it dozens of times, but nothing about it registers with her until now. 

It’s a coincidence, she knows. It has to be, but something pings in the back of her head, pieces of a puzzle she didn’t even know she’d been trying to put together finally slotting into place. 

Shane Hollander lives and plays in Montreal, a city in the same province she’d seen on the car’s plates. Shane Hollander does advertisements for that very car she’d seen in Ilya’s driveway. The very same Shane Hollander, who has famously been Ilya Rozanov’s rival until very recently.

But it could mean absolutely nothing. They were friends. She knew that from talking with Ilya and the fact that they’d announced a joint charity together just a few weeks before. And she got the feeling that Ilya could get rather lonely. It would make total sense for his good friend who lived a couple of hours away to come visit. 

There’s nothing more to it, she convinces herself. 

Except, she can’t quite let it go.

“Shane Hollander is from Ottawa, right?” she asks her husband later that evening when they’re getting ready for bed.

“Yeah, why?” he asks, voice slightly garbled around his toothbrush.

“Oh, I just saw him in an ad today and couldn’t remember.”

As she tries to fall asleep, she can’t help but remember Ilya’s words when she’d asked him why Ottawa. 

Maybe one day you will understand. 

It’s crazy, but she wonders if maybe she already does.

 oOo

Two weeks later, Kate goes for a walk after a particularly long day. It’s freezing out and the sun set hours ago, but the cold air and the crunch of snow under her boots help ground her. 

She’s almost back to the house when she spots the Jeep in Ilya’s driveway, again. Except this time, there’s something different. Ilya’s driveway is extremely well lit, so even in the darkness, she can see that, unlike last time, there are people there, too.

People who are leaning up against the Jeep very obviously kissing. People who are most definitely men. People that even in the limited light Kate can easily tell are Ilya Rozanov and someone with shaggy dark hair. 

Someone who looks a lot like Shane Hollander.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, momentarily frozen as she watches them just fifteen meters away from her. 

Ilya moves, swinging the other person around so that he’s resting against the car, and in the brief moment they’re parted, Kate can clearly see a smiling Shane Hollander wrapping his arms around Ilya’s neck.

She finally comes to her senses enough to realize she’s witnessing something really private. They have no idea they’re being watched, and clearly they don’t want anyone to know about them, considering, well, no one fucking knows about them, at least not publicly. 

Kate knows she needs to move, and her legs somehow help her jog past Ilya’s drive and up the last few steps to her own house. 

She stops on the porch, sinking down onto a thankfully cleared front step. “Holy shit,” she says again, louder this time as her brain tries to catch up with what she’s just seen. “Holy fucking shit.”

Ilya Rozanov is kissing Shane Hollander just over the fence. Two of the most famous hockey players in the world are kissing each other. 

She frantically tries to think of what she’s supposed to do, and the answer comes surprisingly quickly. 

Nothing, she realizes. You do nothing. 

They clearly aren’t in a place where they want to tell anyone, and she can hardly blame them. Hockey isn’t exactly known for its inclusivity, and she can’t imagine the optics of two rivals being together. 

And besides, she doesn’t know the nature of their relationship. Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something, and they just help each other out every few weeks. With the craziness of the schedules, she wouldn’t blame anyone for seeking companionship where the could. 

But even from the distance she’d stood at, she could easily see the absolutely adoring look on Shane Hollander’s face, and she gets the feeling they’re so much more than that. 

“Holy shit,” she manages to repeat, and chuckles a little this time at the absurdity of it.

But then she thinks of the kind man who plays with her kids, and upgrades their season tickets, and eats meals with them like a teenager who’s been starving at school all day, and something warm and sweet wells up in her. 

She’s infinitely glad that Ilya has this. Whatever it is. And she hopes that it keeps and lasts, and knows that she’ll do her part in making sure that happens. 

They will have her silence. For as long as it’s needed.

“How was your walk?” her husband asks when she finally feels calm enough to walk back through the door. 

“Enlightening,” she says with a smile, grateful it’s returned without any questions.

oOo

Watching them at the next home game versus Montreal, it feels so obvious.

The way they meet to talk at center ice during warmups. The way they gravitate towards each other during a stoppage. The grin they give when they meet for a faceoff. 

But it’s nothing compared to the warm smile on both of their faces after the game as they meet to shake hands. It’s not something most captains would do after a regular season game, and she can’t hear at all what they’re saying, but she knows she’s never seen Ilya smile like that, and it kind of makes her want to cry happy tears for him. 

It’s so gentle and loving that she finds it hard to believe there are no actual hearts in both of their eyes. 

Oh, they’re so in love, Kate thinks. How does the entire world not see it?

When Ilya skates over to them afterwards, Kate can’t help but say, “You look happy tonight.”

“We win, what is there to not be happy about?” he says with a look like he’s just watched her grow a second head.

Kate laughs brightly, her hands on Willa’s shoulders. “Of course. What else could it possibly be?”

oOo

The season goes on. Ottawa doesn’t win much, and Kate tries her best not to take note of how many times she sees a Jeep in Ilya’s driveway. 

The kids still make signs for every game, and Ilya still smiles brightly at them no matter the outcome. 

It’s nice and so sweet, but she can’t help but feel like there’s still something missing for him. Something he could have if only the world were just a little different. 

“Do you have any plans for the summer?” she asks one cool evening in May as they sit next to each other on cushioned chairs on the back deck.

“Shane and I have hockey camps in July, but other than that, I do not have much,” he says. “Maybe I will go to a lake somewhere. Just get away for a bit.”

Like the lake Shane has a cottage on? she wants to ask, but obviously doesn’t. Not only because it’s invasive, but also because she doesn’t really want to admit the internet rabbit holes she’s gone down to find information about Ilya’s secret…whatever Shane Hollander is to him. 

“Are you excited for the camps?” Kate asks, leaning toward the fire pit to warm her hands. 

“Very,” he says. “Shane and I have worked for a long time on this. It will be nice to see it happen.”

She reaches over and pats his arm. “It’ll be wonderful, I’m sure,” she says. “And I hope you get some real rest soon. Hopefully with the people you love most.”

He looks at her wide-eyed for a few long seconds, like he’s trying to figure out if she knows something she couldn’t possibly know. But then he shakes his head and looks away, the corners of his mouth quirk up in the barest hint of a smile.

“Do not worry,” he says. “I will.”

oOo

Summer passes into fall, and fall slips into winter. The hockey season starts, and their evenings are once again filled with trips to the arena. Their seats are the same thanks to Ilya, but something feels…different this year that Kate can’t quite put her finger on. Like change is coming, but it’s impossible to tell from where. 

The Jeep still shows up. Kate still doesn’t say anything to anyone, and she almost regrets that one night at dinner when her husband tries to set Ilya up with a coworker of his. 

Ilya takes it in stride, politely refusing and saying he doesn’t have time for a relationship, but her husband still passes him a piece of paper with a phone number on it. 

“Just in case you change your mind,” he says. 

Ilya leaves it on the table, and when Kate’s husband leaves the dining room to help Andrew with a school assignment, she swipes up the number and crumples it in her hand. “Sorry about that.”

Ilya looks happy to be rid of it. “Is okay,” he says, shaking his head. “He is just trying to help. And I am sure she is lovely.”

She watches him for a moment, wondering if he has anyone in his life he can talk to about the things that really matter to him. 

“Listen, Ilya, if you ever needed to talk about anything, like anything, I–”

She doesn’t get to finish because Willa picks that exact moment to come in and beg for ice cream, and as hard as she tries for the rest of the evening to finish her statement, Ilya, whether purposefully or not, is never alone again for her to tell him she’s there for him. 

oOo

It’s Pride Night, and the entire arena is on its feet in support of Troy Barrett. And while they clap and cheer for him, Kate’s family holds up signs in support of Ilya. 

We Love # 81

We’re Proud of Ilya Rozanov

It had felt like a good idea when she’d suggested it a few hours ago. She doesn’t want to take anything away from the night, but she wants Ilya to know he’s supported, even if he can’t spend Pride Night like he maybe wants to. 

He seems moved when he sees them, blowing exaggerated kisses in their direction, but whenever he gets close to the glass, Kate can see something sad in his eyes. 

She can’t imagine how he’s feeling. If he’s hiding what she assumes he is, it must be really fucking difficult to see his teammate living out so openly when he can’t. She wants Ilya to know they're safe. That he doesn't need to hide who he is with them.

“Are you okay?” she shouts when he skates by right before the third period. 

He shrugs his shoulders and looks unsure, and it kind of breaks Kate’s heart. “I will be,” he shouts back. “I hope.”

She really hopes so, too, and when she sees his car pulling back into the driveway early the next morning, she hopes he’s coming back from being in the arms of the person he loves in Montreal. 

oOo

A notification vibrates her phone a month later. 

NHL Stars Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander Seen Kissing in Viral Video

She clicks on the bubble and is immediately taken to what looks like a FanMail video made by another hockey player whose name she can’t remember. It should be unremarkable, and it is until the video suddenly zooms in on the background, and sure enough, there they are. 

Kissing each other like there’s no tomorrow. Like they are very, very much in love, and more than a little familiar with one another.  

“Oh, no,” she whispers into the quiet of her own home. “Fuck. God. Poor, Ilya.”

Kate’s stomach drops, and she feels sick as she imagines the absolute nightmare they must be going through. Coming out on your own terms is one thing. Having the world find out about your queerness through a video you didn’t consent to being in is an entirely other, fucked up thing. 

She swipes to her contacts and almost presses on his name. She wants to call him and see if he’s okay. To ask if he needs anything. Someone to talk to. A meal. A strongly worded email to whoever shared that video in the first place. A place to hide. She would offer it all if it would help even the tiniest amount. 

But she’s aware enough to know he probably won’t answer, and even if he did, there’s not much she can realistically do to help. Except maybe he might benefit from routine, from the few things in his life that are constant. 

So, when her kids get home, they make signs together, and she helps them secure it to the tree at the end of the driveway, while her husband brings out a tiny shelf that contains two familiar-looking figurines. 

She’s not sure when he’ll see it, but she prays that when he does, it brings him some kind of comfort she’s sure is lacking amidst this storm.

oOo

There’s press all around the house in the coming days, and one of them gets brave enough to approach her as she’s trying to get into her car. 

“Did you know about Ilya Rozanov being in an illicit relationship with Shane Hollander?” the man asks, and all Kate can do is glare. 

“If you’re trying to get me to say anything about Ilya Rozanov other than the fact that he’s a wonderful person that I’m lucky to know, you’ve come to the wrong place,” she spits out. “Now, kindly go fuck yourself and get out of my driveway.”

They’re thankfully gone when she gets home, but her phone lights up with a message from Ilya, and she’s grateful to receive any sign that he’s still doing okay.

The message contains a link to a video of her interview, and she has to laugh as she watches it, kind of amazed at her own audacity.

Another message comes through from Ilya, and she smiles at the words. 

Ilya [13:47]: You are a real one, Kate. Thank you for everything.

oOo

A few weeks later, she opens the door to an NHL player standing on her porch. But it’s not the one she’s used to.

“Uh, hi,” an exhausted-looking Shane Hollander says to her, appearing as if he’d rather be anywhere else. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m staying at Ilya’s house; he’s my…boyfriend.” It seems like the word is still hard for him to say out loud, and Kate is about as instantly endeared by him as she was the first time she’d met Ilya. 

“He’s out of town for playoffs, and I’m staying with the dog. Anya, she’s a hot mess and super needy,” he stops and runs a hand through his hair. “Which you didn’t need to know at all, but we got some of your mail delivered, and here.” He holds out a few envelopes, and once Kate takes them, his hands immediately retreat into the pockets of his jeans.

“Thank you,” she says, watching him with an amused smile. “I’m Kate, by the way.”

“I’m Shane,” he says as if the entire world hadn’t just had the chance to see him making out with another man.

“I know,” she laughs and is relieved when he laughs a little bit, too. “Would you like to come in for some tea? You look like you could use it.”

His eyes dart around, like he’s looking for an escape or someone to come rescue him. When nobody does, he shrugs and says, “Sure."

They don’t say much until Kate places a steaming mug in front of Shane at the table.

“Ilya showed me the video of you talking to that journalist,” he says after he’s taken a tentative sip. “Thank you for not giving them anything to work with.”

“Ilya’s our friend. He’s a wonderful neighbor, and he’s been nothing but kind and good to our kids and to us,” she says, her voice soft and fond. “I hate that this happened to the both of you, and I hope things have calmed down a bit.”

“It’s getting there, I think,” Shane offers as his finger circles the rim of his cup. “I’m sure it was a shock to you to find that out. A lot of people are angry at us for keeping it secret for so long.”

“Well, I think their reaction is exactly proof of why you felt you needed to keep it quiet,” she says. And then she figures it’s time to come clean. “And it wasn’t a shock to me. I’ve…actually known for a long time, now.”

Shane straightens in his chair, his face slightly alarmed. “You…what? Did Ilya–”

“No, no,” she interrupts as a sheepish expression takes over her face. “I saw you in his driveway kissing one night.”

Shane groans and slumps slightly in his chair. “I fucking told him we shouldn’t kiss outside,” he says, mostly to himself, and Kate feels a rush of sympathy toward him and everything they must have gone through. 

She almost points out that he seemed to have been enjoying himself just as much as Ilya when she saw them, but figures it might not be the most helpful thing in that moment.

“To be fair, it was forever ago. Like a year and a half almost?” she says, hoping it’ll make him feel better. “And it was super late at night, too. I went for a walk to clear my head, and just happened to walk by.”

Shane shakes his head, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he says. “You knew all this time and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Not a soul,” Kate assures. “I was just glad to see Ilya had someone. I was worried he was lonely.”

“We both were,” Shane replies, and he suddenly looks much older than he is. “For a really long time.”

“But not anymore, right?” she asks hopefully.

The first real smile she’s seen from him lights up his face, and Kate feels like she’s seeing the man Ilya Rozanov fell in love with. “No, not anymore.”

They talk a little bit more about how things are going (they’re taking it one day at a time) and Shane’s ideas about where he’ll end up next season (he’s still not sure, and he doesn’t want to say anything until he does know). He shares they’ll be having a wedding sometime in the summer, and Kate doesn’t even attempt to hide her delighted gasp at the news. 

“You’ll have to come, of course,” Shane tells her with a sincerity that makes her want to hug him. “It would mean a lot to Ilya and me, too.” 

And Kate means it very much when she says, “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

oOo

“Good morning, Ilya!” she calls from the porch one early June morning. “Good morning, Shane!”

“Good morning, Kate!” Ilya calls enthusiastically back as Shane waves with a dog leash in his hand and a pleased little smile on his face. “I am walking with my boyfriend and my dog!”

His joy is infectious, and Kate laughs. “I can see that! I’m very happy for all of you.”

“Isn’t she our dog at this point?” Shane asks, sounding more than slightly offended. 

“What do you think, Anya?” Ilya asks the dog weaving between their legs. “Do you think you can be Shane’s dog, too?”

Anya barks happily, her tail wagging, and Ilya sighs, “Fine, I guess we can share custody.”

“Thanks,” Shane says dryly, and Kate can’t help but laugh again. 

But Ilya pays him no attention as he tells Kate, “We have an invitation for you to the wedding. I’ll drop it by later.” 

She feels giddy at the prospect. “Just bring it by when you come for dinner tonight,” she says, and they both nod. 

“Can we bring anything?” Shane asks as Anya starts to pull at her leash, clearly ready to keep going on her walk.

“Just yourselves,” she says back.

“Alright, but tell Andrew I am bringing my swimsuit, and he’s going to lose at a race so bad this time,” Ilya winks as Shane rolls his eyes in fond exasperation.

“I will definitely pass that message on to him,” Kate says. “See you tonight!” And she waves until they’re around the corner and out of sight. 

oOo

Kate cheers with the rest of the crowd when her neighbors kiss at their wedding, and Ilya proudly announces, “We are married!”

When she finds him later by the cake table, she hugs him tightly and says, “I finally know the answer to my question.” 

He pulls back and looks at her with a confused expression. “What question is that?”

“Why Ottawa?”

Realization dawns, and he smiles widely. “Ah, yes. I knew you would love the Canadian War Museum as much as I do.”

She playfully elbows him in the ribs. “Is that where you’re going on your honeymoon?” 

“The very first stop,” he says slyly back before his face turns grateful. “Shane told me you kept our secret for a long time. It seems we owe you more than I knew.”

Kate shakes her head and catches sight of Shane from across the yard. He waves and smiles brightly at them, and Kate knows she won’t have to worry about these two ever again. They have each other fully now. 

Her hand comes up and gently squeezes Ilya’s arm. “All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. So be happy. That’s all the repayment I need.” 

oOo

A familiar Mercedes SUV stops at the end of the driveway on the afternoon of the Centaur’s season opener. 

“Hello, neighbors!” Ilya calls out as he always does, but this time, there’s someone else in the car with him who’s saying hi with equal enthusiasm. 

“Hi everyone!” Shane says with a wave and the happiest expression until he notices what Willa and Andrew are wearing. “What’s with these jerseys? Where’s the number twenty-four representation?”

“Shane, do not disparage the children,” Ilya says. “Everyone knows you wear the captain’s jersey. He is best player. It is just simply what is done.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shane quips back from the passenger seat. “Then why do they sell all those other players’ jerseys then?”

“I do not know, I have always thought it was a waste,” Ilya says while Shane rolls his eyes.

“I know!” Willa pipes up as Kate fails at trying not to laugh at the display the two men are putting on. “Why don’t I wear Ilya’s jersey and Andrew can wear Shane’s?”

Ilya’s face lights up like she’s just come up with a plan for world peace. “Willa, you are so smart. You will save the world one day.” 

Willa beams at him, and Shane agrees with the compromise, promising to get Andrew a jersey to wear for the game that night. 

“How many goals are we scoring tonight?” Ilya asks like he always does, and both kids jump with excitement. 

“Four!” Willa and Andrew exclaim together.

“This is first time they have ever agreed,” Ilya tells Shane seriously. “We have no choice.” 

They all laugh, and the kids high-five both men through the car window with lots of ‘see you soon’ and ‘good luck’ exchanges to go around.

And as they drive away, Kate can’t help but smile, knowing this particular hockey season with these particular NHL star neighbors of hers is going to be her favorite one yet.