Her room was dark and quiet except for the sounds of his soft breathing next to her. She slowly rolled over and kissed his shoulder softly. Carefully, she slid out from under the blanket and out of bed. She quietly tip-toed to the chair where he had left his t-shirt and pulled it on over her head. It smelled like him and she breathed deeply and smiled. She continued padding softly to the door of the balcony and went outside, careful not to let in much light so she wouldn’t wake him. It was only 3 am, but since the sun never really went down at this time of year, it was light enough to see the city around her. The air was clear and crisp and a bit damp. It seemed a bit foggy with the damp mist settling on the streets below. She couldn’t sleep. Her mind kept racing. She stood with her hands on the railing and breathed deeply. She shivered slightly and moved to the lounge chair. She wrapped herself in a blanket and snuggled into the chair. She stared out toward the Kremlin, but didn’t really see it. Her mind kept playing back images in her head. Alex, the first time she saw him; Alex, leaning against the car when she took his picture; Alex, in the pond with Mishka; Alex, sitting on the grass in St. Petersburg. She kept seeing his face, the way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her just before he kissed her. Did it all really mean nothing? Would he move on and forget all about her? After tomorrow, would she ever look into his eyes again? It couldn’t be. She’d been completely careless. She’d fallen in love with him. She didn’t even know it was happening until it was too late. She’d never expected someone like him to come along. She was unprepared. And now, she was lost. She was leaving for Budapest and he was going back to a whole other world that she knew nothing about. He was a superstar in the hockey world, a huge celebrity. She didn’t know anything about that man. All she knew was that she loved that kind and gentle man sleeping in her bed just inside. That man laughed at everything, took joy in everything, held her close and kissed her tenderly. She would lose him. Was he different with the whole hockey world at his feet? Would she still love him? She couldn’t believe that he could look at her the way he did and not have some real feelings for her. She didn’t want to believe that she was just some girl to him, that he didn’t really care. She didn’t want to believe that he didn’t love her. She didn’t want to go back to the woman she was before, completely competent, but lonely, so lonely that she didn’t even remember what she was missing. He’d changed her. He treated her like no man had ever done before. He made her feel like she was something special.
Did he make everyone feel that way? Was she just a fool? Was she just some stupid girl to allow herself to believe that there was more? Maybe he did this every summer. Maybe he chose some random female and seduced her until she would do anything for him and then left. No, she didn’t believe that! She would never believe that he didn’t care for her! Why did it matter that she wasn’t Russian? She loved him. Why couldn’t she have the chance to make him happy because she was born across the pond? Why wasn’t he allowed to love her back?
She could fight it all she wanted, scream against it in her head, but it didn’t change anything. He would leave and she would have to go on. It would be over. She shivered in the cold and caught her breath. She brushed away her tears with the back of her hand. She hadn’t even realized she had started to cry.
“Kroshka?” he called. She jumped and made sure her eyes were dry as she rushed to the door.
“I’m here,” she said in a voice forced to be steady.
“What are you doing out here?” he said, meeting her at the door.
“I couldn’t sleep. I… I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You are freezing,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Come back to bed. You should not be out there in the cold.”
She snuggled her head into his warm chest and allowed him to walk her back to the bed. He took her blanket, tossed it on the chair beside the bed and ushered her under the covers. It was still warm from where he had been lying. He crawled in next to her and pulled her into his arms again. He kissed her forehead and rubbed the chill from her arms.
“Why you couldn’t sleep?”
“I don’t know,” she lied. She reached up and brushed the hair from his brow. She looked into the blue of his eyes, barely visible in the small light of the room. She brushed her lips across his and watched as they curled up into a smile.
“I know a way to get you warm quick,” he said.
“Oh, you do?” she smiled and bit her lip.
“Uh huh,” he mumbled and kissed her neck. She guided his mouth to find hers and kissed him deeply. He was here and she made a decision. She refused to mourn his loss before he was actually gone.
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