“Fourteen, I think. Something like that.” He hesitated a moment, wondering if he was ready to reveal this, then decided to just go for it. “It was girls only, at first. Then boys too. Not as many, but some.”
Again, her face didn’t show any surprise. She jotted something on the notepad she balanced on her lap, then glanced back up. “That would have been risky, especially in Russia,” she said.
“I think that was part of what I liked about it.”
“Those desires didn’t scare you?”
Ilya considered the question before answering. “No. They never did. It just seemed like an opportunity for more sex.” It was the truth; maybe if he hadn’t been attracted to girls first, he would have been scared, but being attracted to men as well had always made him feel...evolved.
She scribbled more notes while Ilya watched.
“I’m bisexual. Just to be clear.” He said it casually, as if he said those words all the time. He’d barely said them ever.
She nodded. “What has it been like, being a bisexual NHL player?”
Ilya shrugged. “Normal. I don’t advertise it.”
“It’s never been an issue?”
“No.” Ilya frowned. He was lying, which was pointless here. “Well, yes. It’s made it hard to be...” He wasn’t sure how much he should reveal here. His therapist was sworn to secrecy. This was a safe space. But he still felt like he should have Shane’s permission to talk about their relationship to someone else. So, he said, “I’m...seeing someone. In secret.”
“A man,” she guessed.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Ilya almost laughed. “Ten years, give or take.”
For the first time during their session, Galina looked surprised.
“Off and on,” Ilya explained. “It was casual for years. Secret hookups, that sort of thing. But then I fell in love with the guy.”
“And...did he feel the same?”
Ilya couldn’t stop the giddy smile that spread across his face. “He did. He does.”
She acknowledged his smile with one of her own. “How does your relationship work now?”
“We see each other when we can. He lives in...a place not too far away from here. We’re both busy, but we spend as much time together as we can. Especially in the—” Ilya cut himself off. He was revealing too much.
“In the summers?” Galina guessed. “When you aren’t playing hockey.”
“Right. Yes.”
A silence hung in the room, heavy and full of mutual understanding. She knew who his boyfriend was, and she knew he knew. And no one had to ever say his name aloud.
“So,” Ilya said. “That’s another thing. In my life.”
“Does anyone know?”
“A few people. His parents know. Maybe five other people besides. Mostly Sh—” He pressed his lips together just in time. “Mostly his friends.”
“None of your friends?”
“Not yet. No.”
“That doesn’t sound even. He has more support than you do in this.”
Ilya knew that. Of course it had occurred to him. Sometimes he was even angry about it. “I know.”
“Who would you tell, if you could?”
Everyone. Ilya would tell the whole world if he could. “I don’t know. My teammates might not understand. I don’t have many friends who aren’t teammates.”
“There are other queer NHL players,” she said. “And ex-NHL players. Are you friends with any of them?”
“Some. Sort of. I think even they would be bothered by—” He caught himself. After a moment’s hesitation, though, he decided there was no point in pretending she didn’t already know the next part. “By rival players secretly dating. A gay hockey player is still a hockey player, and there are unofficial rules. A code.”
“Are there official rules?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I’m sure the league will make some up in a hurry if they find out about us. Either way, things would get very difficult for us.”
“What do you think the worst-case scenario is?”
Ilya took a moment to think before answering. “My worst fear is having to go back to Russia. Especially since, in that scenario, I would have been outed as bisexual.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
Ilya sighed. “I don’t know.”
“What would need to happen, for you to have to leave Canada?”
“I guess I think...if I wasn’t allowed to play hockey, I would be unemployed. And I haven’t lived here long enough to apply for citizenship.”
“But there are other ways,” she said reasonably. “And it’s unlikely you’d be banned from the NHL, especially given who you are.”
She was right. Ilya had considered the fact that, even if the worst happened and he and Shane were kicked out of the league—or shunned by every team, if not officially kicked out—then he could seek out other ways to stay in Canada. He could find other work. He could...get married.
“Worst-case scenario,” he said slowly. “Actual, realistic worst-case scenario: our NHL careers are over, but we can get married, and live a quiet life together in Canada.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Angry that we would have our careers cut short like that. But also... I don’t know. Relief, maybe. Sometimes I feel like I might scream, it’s so hard keeping this secret. I love hockey, and I deserve to have the career I want for as long as I want it. I’ve earned that. But if I had to choose...I’d choose him.”
Galina made another quick note.
“But,” Ilya said quietly, “I shouldn’t have to choose.”
“What’s the best-case scenario?” she asked.
Ilya blew out a breath. “No idea. We announce we’re together and everyone cheers? I win three more Stanley Cups and celebrate each one with my husband watching? I don’t know.”
“What’s a realistic best-case scenario?”
Ilya considered it, and smiled. “We keep going, same as we are now, except everyone knows we’re together and it’s fine. No big deal.”
“Is that what you both want?”
Well, that was the big question. Ilya thought that was what Shane wanted, but he was also pretty sure Shane was happy to hide until they were both retired. “I hope so.”