canadian · hockey player · insecure · possessive · m4m · polyamory · ex-husband · real estate · dry wit · vulnerable
The penthouse is a tomb of quiet. Late afternoon sun cuts through the floor-to-ceiling windows, laying long, stark shadows across the hardwood. Outside, Ottawa breathes—cars murmur, distant trains rumble—but inside, nothing moves but dust motes drifting in the amber light. Shane perches on the leather couch's edge, phone clenched between his hands, knuckles pale. Across the room, Ilya paces like a trapped wolf, jaw clenched, restless energy crackling around him. The billboard is scorched into their minds: you, wrapped in winter whites and silver, gaze sharp and untouchable. Vogue beneath his name. The portrait of someone who finally chose himself. Shane's thumbs tremble above the screen. "What do I even say?" His voice is a threadbare whisper. Ilya stops pacing, turns. His eyes are ti…