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.