Alexei

by Rothert, Brenda

  “I’ll be there. And I’ll go to the meetings.”

  “If you don’t like it, try a different meeting. Don’t give up.”

  He grins. “I won’t, coach.”

  “I know of a really good one in the city every morning, if you can make it.”

  “Do you ever go scope them out, so you know which ones to recommend?”

  I shrug. “Some people really like smaller meetings where they can talk more, and others like big ones where they can feel anonymous. I’ve never been to an AA meeting, but I go to Al-Anon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a support group for people whose lives have been affected by addiction.”

  He nods. “And you go because of your work here?”

  I’m silent for a beat. “No, I go because my father is an alcoholic.”

  His expression turns serious. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. I had no idea. Is he still around?”

  I shrug. “Somewhere. I don’t keep in touch with him.”

  “Graysen…damn, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. His lifetime of bad choices is on him.”

  “Yeah, but…it had to affect you. Is that why you went into this line of work?”

  “It is.” I clear my throat and put on my glasses, reading over my notes. “But we’re here to talk about you.”

  “Okay. But another time…I want to talk about you some more.”

  “I shared something about my parents with you…maybe you can do the same now?”

  Alexei rubs a hand over the dark stubble on his face. “Yeah, I see what you did there. Okay…I’ll share what I remember, but it’s not much.”

  “Okay.”

  “I was happy before we came to the states. I didn’t even realize things were bad until we got here and there was so much food. Food all the time, in the refrigerator, in the pantry, an endless supply. Everyone in the Carr household had their own bed—even me and Anton. We were used to sharing with our parents, buried under blankets and still freezing. And there was never enough to eat.”

  “How did it feel to make that change?”

  His expression darkens. “At first, good. But then…God, I felt so guilty. When I was warm in bed, I’d think about my family back in Russia, freezing and hungry.”

  “Those are heavy feelings for a five-year-old boy.”

  “Yeah. And I resented Martin and Laura because they had so much and my family had so little. Martin Carr was our youth hockey coach, but he always treated us like his own children.” He sighs heavily. “Anton, he was able to compartmentalize it better. He said our parents had fewer people to feed and take care of once we were gone, and he just embraced American life.”

  “Did your feelings change as you got older?”

  “I don’t know if they changed, but I thought about it less. My parents sent us letters for the first few months, and the Carrs hired a translator to read them to us and to write letters back about how we were doing. But within a year of us coming to the US, our letters started getting returned because my parents had moved.”

  “And they didn’t send a forwarding address?”

  He shakes his head. “In their situation, they may have been holing up with friends or other family. Things there were…really hard. Or maybe I just told myself that because it felt better than thinking they just didn’t care.”

  He’s a grown man, but all I see is a hurt little boy. I want so badly to get up and go hug him. To tell him he deserved better.

  “Did you ever get back in touch with them?”

  He shakes his head. “I hired a private investigator to find them when I signed my first NHL contract. He spent two months following every lead he could find. My mother had died eight years before and he couldn’t find my father or any of our other siblings.”

  “Oh, Alexei.”

  “I didn’t know them, you know? Barely even remembered them. But it was a punch to the fucking gut to think my own mother had died on a day that I was just going to school and playing hockey, completely unaware.”

  “Is there a gravesite you can visit?”

  “No, she was cremated.”

  I just look at him, feeling that personal-professional conflict tugging at me again. The therapist in me is glad he’s finally vocalizing his pain. I’m not sure he realized he was still carrying around that hurt, it was buried so deep inside him. But as a woman who has feelings for him, I want to hug him…and more. A lot more.

  I focus on the professional side, because this is a big moment in Alexei’s treatment. “Do you and your brother ever talk about them?”

  “Not much. There’s not much to say.”

  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  He looks at me, his expression weary. “Do you think my drinking is related to my parents somehow?”

  “I think it’s probably part of it, but not the only part.”

  “I just don’t make that connection, I guess. I’ve never thought about them before getting wasted.”

  “Think of it like this. We all have feelings. Some are good, some are bad. Many are somewhere in the middle. But no matter what, we need an outlet for those feelings. We need to talk, or cry, or go for a long run…there are lots of choices. But some people bottle their feelings up. They avoid them, or even deny them.”

  He nods. “I’m sure I’ve been guilty of that.”

  “Alcohol and drugs can be a way to numb feelings.”

  “So instead I should talk about what I’m feeling?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  “I like you, Graysen.”

  My shoulders slump. “Don’t play games, this is serious.”

  He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not playing any games. I just want you to know that I genuinely like you. I’m not just flirting with you to pass the time or anything.”

  “It’s not uncommon for patients to become attached to their therapist. You may feel like I created change in your life, but really, it was you.”

  “Can I give you some advice?”

  I furrow my brow, confused. “Sure?”

  “When I tell you how I feel, don’t argue with me about it.”

  I open my mouth, then close it again, thinking about what he said.

  “Is that what I was doing?”

  “Yeah. You’re always telling me why I don’t really like you, or can’t like you, or shouldn’t like you. But I do. And you like me, too.”

  “Yes, but we can’t—”

  “Not now, I know. But I don’t want what’s happening between us to end in two weeks.”

  I sigh softly. “What’s happening between us isn’t something that’s good for either of us.”

  “Why not?”

  “You need to avoid relationships for at least nine months. You have to focus on your sobriety.”

  “Yeah, but you know who helps me focus on my sobriety like a fucking boss? That would be you.”

  I laugh. “Alexei, we can’t date each other just because I’d help you stay sober.”

  “Let’s date each other because we want to.”

  My heart pounds with warmth and excitement, which feels both right and wrong at the same time.

  “Can we please not do this? We need to focus on your session.”

  “I want to focus on my session, but how can I do that when I’m thinking constantly about not seeing you anymore in two weeks?”

  My heart swells. Alexei said he’s thinking about me constantly. God, that feels good. But I can’t let go of my professional responsibility.

  “We can’t do this right now,” I say weakly.

  “Graysen, you’re beautiful and smart and so damn sexy it hurts. Just tell me we can still see each other after I leave here.”

  “Alexei…”

  “Just tell me if you want to.” He searches my face for the truth. “That’s all I need right now, for you to tell me if you want to see me again or if you want this to end in two weeks.”

&
nbsp; I give him a pleading look.

  “You want me to come over there and ask you?” The corner of his lips quirk up in challenge.

  Oh God. If he brings that soapy smell and those muscular thighs over to my side of the room, I’m done for.

  “I want to,” I admit, exasperated. “There, that’s what you wanted, for me to admit it. And yes, I want to see you after you leave here.”

  His shoulders sink the slightest bit and he looks relieved. “There, was that so hard?”

  “It doesn’t mean I’ll be able to,” I say. “It’s not a good idea, and—”

  “All I asked is if you want to.”

  “And I answered you,” I say sharply.

  “Graysen, I’m not sure if you know this, but it’s important to talk about your feelings. You need to be honest about them, because keeping them to yourself can lead to—”

  I bury my face in my hands. “Get out of my office.”

  He grins at me as he stands up. “Not so fun being on the other side, is it?”

  “I can only deal with you in moderation.” I feign a scowl. “I’ll see you later in group.”

  “I’ll be checking you out as often as possible.”

  “Oh my God, go away.”

  With one last sexy smirk, he does. And as soon as my heart returns to its regular rhythm, I miss him.

  16

  Alexei

  Anton looks good. His hair is shorter and there are a few lines around his eyes when he smiles that I don’t remember seeing before.

  His smile, and the way he embraces me before saying a word when he sees me, tell me he must not be so pissed anymore.

  “Looking good, man,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder as we pull apart. “How’s it going?”

  “Good, how ‘bout you?”

  He shrugs. “We just slipped out of first place, but other than that life’s good.”

  “Anton, you can have a seat over here,” Graysen says, patting the leather chair she usually sits on during our sessions.

  It’s weird seeing him in her office. I’ve never been in here with anyone but Graysen. When she went to get Anton from the Beckett lobby and walked him in here, my guard immediately went up.

  I don’t want her looking at him or talking to him. Not that I have any choice. But he’s the polished, hard-working brother who always does the right thing. I’m the other side of the coin—tarnished and corroded.

  Graysen sits beside me on the couch I always sit on during our sessions, and confidence flows through me. It’s a small gesture, her sitting beside me. It’s like she’s trying to communicate she’s on my side.

  “Alexei is on track to graduate from Beckett in thirteen days,” she says. “He’s worked hard here, not just in therapy but in physical rehab, too.”

  Anton nods. Several seconds of silence pass before Graysen speaks again.

  “I’m very proud of Alexei for what he’s done here.”

  “But the real test will be sticking with it once he’s done here, right?” my brother says. “He can’t get alcohol in here, no matter how much he wants it.”

  “I don’t think of it that way,” Graysen responds. “There are many patients who don’t complete our program. It’s about more than just not drinking anymore. Think of his sobriety like climbing a mountain. Every step he takes is work toward that goal.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Anton says. “I’m really glad he’s here, and that he’s trying to get better. I’ve been worried about his drinking for a while now.”

  “Can you talk to him, instead of me?” Graysen says. “Tell him how it feels to see him today.”

  Anton hesitates and looks at me. “It’s good. I don’t want you to think I just dumped you off in here and forgot about you. It was tough love.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here and all,” I say, “but when I woke up in the hospital and you sent your team owner to see me instead of coming yourself…that shit hurt.”

  “How many times have I been there? You think I can just leave my team to come sit beside your bed because you got drunk and drove into a barn?”

  He’s talking to me in the tone, like he’s a frustrated mom and I’m his misbehaving toddler. I’ve heard that condescending tone more from him than any other.

  “I was in a coma,” I remind him. “You’re my brother.”

  “I was in touch with the doctors. They told me you’d be okay.”

  I rub my temples, frustrated. “Why do you always have to be right? Every fucking time, you have to be the right one and I have to be the wrong one.”

  He throws his hands up. “Maybe because I make the right choices and you make the wrong ones?”

  My jaw tenses. “I made it to the NHL. I volunteer at the Austin Children’s Hospital. But according to you, I’m a lazy prick who never practiced enough and I volunteer because my team PR people make me.”

  “Both true.”

  I lean forward, feeling Graysen’s warmth beside me. “Bullshit. I didn’t have to practice as much as you. I still don’t. I caught on faster and had more natural talent.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t work hard,” he scoffs.

  “I worked my ass off. But because you had to work harder, you dismiss everything I’ve done, everything I’ve earned.”

  Anton gives Graysen a questioning look. “Is this what we’re here to talk about?”

  “Yes.”

  He shifts in his seat. “What am I supposed to say? Am I here to accept some sort of responsibility for his drinking?”

  “Just listen,” she says gently. “Listen and don’t argue with what he’s saying.”

  She turns to me and I see something in her eyes that I feel down to my bones. Having her beside me makes me feel stronger, more accepting of myself.

  “You’ve never thought I was as good as you,” I say bitterly. “Our parents sent us away and you became the golden boy and I became the fuck up.”

  Anton just looks at me in silence.

  “How does that feel, Alexei?” Graysen asks softly.

  I sigh heavily. “It feels…like I’m never enough. No one thinks I’m enough.”

  Except her, but I don’t say that.

  Anton closes his eyes and exhales hard, opening them a few seconds later.

  “I never feel like enough, either.”

  I lower my brows, skeptical. “You?”

  “Why do you think I work so hard? All my life I’ve been trying to feel like enough.”

  When I look at my brother sitting across from me, I see the boy he was—first one at the rink, always volunteering to help the Carrs, straight-A student…and I get it. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

  My throat tightens. “You’re more than enough, Anton.”

  He nods, tears shining in his eyes. “So are you. And if I’ve made you feel any other way…I’m sorry. It’s not what I meant to do.”

  “You’re my family,” I say, choking up. “The only family I’ve got.”

  Anton shakes his head, leaning forward in his chair. “I know you think that, but Martin and Laura are your family, too. They love us like we’re their own.”

  “We’re not theirs, though.”

  “It doesn’t matter who gave birth to us.”

  “I know it’s not supposed to matter.” I look away.

  “They didn’t have to take us, or keep us.”

  “Would they have wanted us if we weren’t good hockey players?”

  The question hangs in the air. Martin was a youth hockey coach, and he took two talented Russian boys with natural hockey skills and trained them to be NHL stars.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe they took us because we were good hockey players, but they didn’t have to treat us like their blood, and they always have. They love you, Alexei, but you’ve never really accepted that. Laura’s been worried sick about you for a long time now.”

  “I love them, you know I do.” I put my elbows on my knees, leaning forward.
/>   “Then talk to them. They’ve never let us down, you know?”

  I nod. “I will.”

  Anton clears his throat. “Hey, I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Oh, shit. I’ve lost my spot on the Blaze. I can just feel it. Anton did everything he could to hold a spot for his deadbeat, injured brother, but it’s gone now. And I’m finished—no team will ever want me now.

  “I’m off the team,” I say, sighing. “I figured as much.”

  “No, you’re not. We’re expecting you to make it back onto the ice, and don’t you forget it. We can send a trainer here to work with you if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He grins. “What I have to tell you…it’s actually good news. The best news, really. You’re gonna be an uncle.”

  I jump up from the couch, my hip rebelling against the sudden movement with a twinge. “No fucking way! Are you serious?”

  He nods. “Mia and I applied with an adoption agency a few months ago and we found out two weeks ago that a birth mom picked us for her twins.”

  “Twins?!” I put both hands on top of my head, elated and stunned. “You guys are having twins?”

  “Two girls, in about three months.”

  “Holy shit!” I look at Graysen, then reach down to hug her without even thinking about it. “Did you hear that? I’m gonna be an uncle!”

  She laughs lightly in my ear, letting me pull her up from the couch.

  “Congratulations,” she says to me before looking over at Anton. “And congratulations to you and your wife, too.”

  “Thank you. We’re so damn excited.”

  I release Graysen, letting her sit back down, and walk over to embrace my brother.

  “Our family, mine and yours, is about to get bigger,” he says. “Two more reasons to take care of yourself.”

  “I will, man.”

  We sit back down and talk some more, but I can’t keep the smile off my face. Anton and Mia have been struggling with infertility for a while now, and I know how badly they both want children. I want to be a good uncle to my new nieces—someone they can look up to, and drinking doesn’t fit with that.

  After our session, Graysen escorts Anton to the front lobby and comes back to her office, sitting down in her chair across from me.