Who Says You Can't Go Home

He left Russia shortly after his eighteenth birthday to follow his dream, leaving behind the one person who meant the most to him.

Natasha.

Natasha was not like other girls he knew. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty; she wasn’t covered in make-up. She loved being her crazy self. She liked dancing in the rain, she liked getting in snowball fights, and she loved beating the guys in arm wrestling.

But after Nikita went to the United States to fulfill his dream of playing hockey, Natasha was left wondering if she would ever really see him again and if things would ever be the same for them.

She knew from early on that Niki was going to be famous. He was going to be a star hockey player and one day he would leave her, though she had no idea it would be so soon.

It was difficult, the day he left, to hold back her tears, but she did not wish to appear weak and girly. She remained strong, hugging the boy she loved, and whispering words of well wishes into his ear. He smiled in return, telling her how much he loved her and how much he would miss her.

She watched on television as he was drafted first round, sixth overall by the Columbus Blue Jackets. She watched him shake hands of some very important men, pulling the dark blue jersey over his head, before putting on the Blue Jackets’ baseball cap. She watched him smiling brightly, happy of his great accomplishment, as the tears finally fell down her slightly red cheeks.

Despite Natasha being proud of her Niki, she knew nothing would be the same again.

On occasion Natasha was able to watch some of Niki’s games on the computer, both when he played at the AHL level and when he was called up to play in the NHL. More than anything, Natasha loved watching him skate. She could tell, just by looking at him, that he loved what he was doing, and that alone almost made up for the fact he had left her. Almost.

She watched from afar as he grew as a player and a person. She kept her eye out for interviews he gave and Internet articles on him, both gossip and informative ones. At first he would call her a few times a week, telling her all about his practices, hanging out with the guys, and life in the United States, but as he could more and more busy with hockey, the phone calls became less and less frequent, until they finally stopped about six months after he left.

Natasha wondered where this left them. They never officially broke up, or even talked about having a long-distance relationship, but after not hearing from your so-called boyfriend for a few weeks, you can’t help but think that everything between you is over, no matter how much you both had said you loved each other.

Even after they stopped talking on the phone, Natasha would still try and watch his games if she could. Seeing him there, doing what he loved, almost made all her sacrifices worth it. Natasha had even thought of going to visit Niki in America, perhaps surprising him at one of his games, or even going to university over there, but she never did, not wanting to run the risk of seeing that he was indeed over her.

She could hear her friends, her family, her neighbors all talking about how proud they were of him, while she simply nodded her head, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall out of her ocean blue eyes.

It too a while, but about a year after he left she began seeing a guy, Anton, from university casually. The two of them went on a few dates to the movies, out to dinner, and while Natasha enjoyed his company, he wasn’t her Niki.

In the summer of 2009, all people in Natasha’s town could talk about was how the town hero, her Niki, was coming home for the summer. Natasha wondered how things were supposed to be between the two of them. Were they simply supposed to pretend that nothing between them ever happened and ignore the awkwardness between them, or perhaps they were supposed to pick up where they left off, pretending that he never left at all?

Instead, Natasha chose a third route: ignoring him all together. She would let him make the first move, though that did not take long.

Natasha was surprised to hear a knock on her front door, not expecting company at the late hour. Her eyes drifted over to the grandfather clock in the entryway and she was surprised to discover it was well past ten at night. She made her way over to the large, thick oak door, opening it to reveal the one person she truly did not wish to speak to.

“Hey,” he greeted in Russian after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. He hadn’t changed much since that last time she saw him, perhaps more muscular and a bit taller, but he still had the same baby face she loved.

“Why are you here?” Natasha replied back in her native tongue. She knew she should probably have been more polite and greeted him more properly, but she could not resist the words that had spilled out of her mouth.

His face screwed up in a frown, surprised by her reaction to his visit. “I missed you,” he stated like she should have known that. “I wanted to come and see you.”

She let out a sigh, not quite sure how to respond to that. After some thought, she quietly replied, “Then you should have called more, found time to come visit me. Something, anything other than ignoring me for six months.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know it doesn’t make up for the fact we haven’t talked in a while, but I really was extremely busy.”

Natasha placed her hands on her slim hips. “Too busy for a simple, short phone call to let me know how you were doing, or to tell me that you still loved me?” she questioned, her voice rising.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, running a hand through his straight, brown hair. “I do still love you, Nat,” Nikita tried to assure her.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” she pointed out, slamming the door in his face. She let out another big sigh, allowing her self to collapse against the large, brown door, sliding down to the hardwood floor below.

She knew she still loved him, which was perhaps what made all of this so difficult for her. She wanted to be strong, not shedding a single tear for the man—nah, boy, who broke her heart. Natasha knew he was lying to her; if he still loved her, he would have done something over the past year to prove it to her. He wouldn’t have just left her completely like that. As her head fell forward, resting on her knees pulled up close to her chest, the salty tears began to fall down her rosy cheeks.

--

It was November and the winter air was alive and chilly. It had been over five months since she had seen the boy of her dreams pathetically standing on her porch, but she still knew after all this time her feelings had not changed about him.

She tugged her warm coat closer to her body as she made her way down her steep driveway to fetch her mail. The wind blew, her hair lightly dancing around her face. She couldn’t believe how cold it had gotten in just a few short weeks and although she loved the snow, she hated when it was cold without the addition of the white wonderland.

As she pulled open her mailbox and pulled out a few letters, she heard the sounds of a car behind her. While she expected it to slowly make its way past her, she was surprised to hear the driver turn off the engine. She turned to face the newcomer, her jaw dropping when she recognized the boy climbing out of the sports car.

“What are you doing here, Niki?” she inquired as he stopped in front of her.

His clammy hand reached out, grabbing her own, as he laced his chubby fingers with her thin, long ones. “I did something, Nat. I want to be with you and I will do whatever it takes to make it work,” he promised.

Her eyes stared up at him, happiness and sadness both running deep through them. “But what about the NHL? What about your dream?”

“There’s time for the NHL later,” he assured her. “When I can bring you back with me. For now, I want to play hockey in Russia, where I can be with you, and I can tell you how much I love you every single day of the week. None of my dreams matter, Nat, if you aren’t there with me every step of the way.”

Natasha tried to hold back the laughter at his corny words. “You mean that, Niki?” she verified.

His arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her closer to him. “Absolutely, Nat,” he spoke, leaning down to seal the deal with a kiss.