Russian Roulette

It had only been a few weeks since the surgery and the dynamic had between us had changed drastically. Geno was constantly in a bad mood because he had to miss the rest of the season and I hated being the dutiful housewife. We weren’t used to always being around each other and we were constantly fighting. Everyday I wished Geno had never gotten hurt because neither of us would be in this situation.
I was practicing sutures to keep my dexterity at its peak when I hear Geno calling from the other room. I roll my eyes and get up and walk to the living room.

“Yes?” I ask him.

“Марио хочет иметь ужин, когда вы хотите пойти, (Mario wants to have supper, when do you want to go?”) he asks.

“English please.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like translating and if you want to improve your English, speak English,” I say frostily. He looks at me and shakes his head.

“Supper, when?”

“Geno I don’t want to go for supper.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ll ask how my job is going and then I’ll have to explain that I’m suspended. I really don’t feel like making small talk with people I hardly know.” Geno doesn’t say anything so I go upstairs to take a nap. I crawl under the covers and stare at the wall. I hated this person I was becoming. This lost, unsure, bitter person. I didn’t want to resent Geno but I couldn’t help it. He would play hockey again but would I operate? I got suspended for now but what if they think they’ve made a mistake and take my license away. Legally Dr. Collins should have fired me and the board should have my license revoked but because of some hospital board owner scandal I was home free? I wanted to be able to tell Geno how I was feeling but I couldn’t because he was involved. I try to nap but end up staring at the wall for two hours.

Playoffs rolled around a month and a half later and I knew it killed Geno that he wasn’t on the ice. He started to rehab his knee and I was officially called back into work but I was under probation. I felt like an intern again. Dr. Reid, who now didn’t trust me had to scrub in on all my surgeries and supervise me during rounds. I thought things between me and Geno would magically get better but they didn’t. He put his all his focus on rehabbing and I was spending more nights sleeping at the hospital. I wanted to fix our relationship but I didn’t know how.
I got home after a long day and Geno was on the phone. He hung up as soon as he saw me and I felt apprehensive about it.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Was no one,” he says defensively.

“Why did you hang up so fast?”

“Was just friend.”

“Whatever Geno,” I say angrily.

“Why angry?”

“Forget it, I’m over it.” I walk upstairs in the bedroom and slam the door. Our relationship was falling apart at the seams. I throw myself down on the bed and my phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” I answer annoyed.

“Hi Quinn, it’s Kevin, Geno’s physiotherapist. He told me to call you and update you on his progress. He’s only a month and a half in but he’s already doing so well. Like he’s at the point of someone who’s been rehabbing for at least 3 maybe 4 months. I’ve never seen an athlete bounce back this fast from a ruptured ACL,” he says enthusiastically.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I reply.

“I was just calling to give you that update.”

“Thanks for calling.” We hang up and I have mixed emotions. I was happy Geno was doing so well, it meant the surgery was a success but was our relationship so bad that Geno couldn’t just tell me the news himself?
I go downstairs and find him gaming in the living room.

“Kevin called and told me about your knee,” I say evenly. He looks at me briefly before looking back at his game.

“Wow so we’re just not talking? You’re literally going to get other people to talk to me for you? Like poor Geno, I hurt my knee and now my team has to play without me. There are so many bigger problems in the world. Like I’m sorry this has been hard for you but you do realize you’ll probably play hockey again,” I say angrily.

“Why like this? Always want fight. I not fight,” he responds.

“You’re mad you’re not playing but you’re taking it out on the one person who gives a shit.” His eyes go back to the screen so I grab the controller and throw it.

“I’m leave,” he says getting up.

“You know I used to save people’s lives but I nearly gave that up so you could shoot a stupid puck in a net,” I say shaking my head.

“See you blame. You not forced to do surgery,” he says angrily.

“No but I did it because I love you. I’m so in love you that’s it’s literally killing me.”

“Not supposed to be like this,” he replies and then walks out.

The Rangers knocked the Penguins out of the playoffs and their season came to an end. I was at work watching the last game and I shake my head knowing Geno would be devastated. I finish doing rounds and head out into the rain. It was late and I figured Geno would be asleep by the time I got home but when I pulled up to the house the lights were still on. I get outside and I’m drenched in a matter of seconds. I run inside and there are suitcases by the door. I see Luka sleeping on the couch but Geno’s nowhere to be found.

“G?” I call out. He comes down the stairs carrying a bag. My heart stops and I suddenly feel sick.

“Where are you going?”

“Russia,” he says evenly.

“But…” I don’t know what to say. I know what he’s going to say but I don’t want to hear it.

“Quinn I love, but I not do this anymore.” No, this wasn’t happening.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg him.

“I have to.”

“I can make things better, I can change please Zhenya, I’m begging you.” I feel the tears start streaming down my face and I’m shaking. He looks distant and detached and I rack my brain trying to find the right thing to say.

“I sorry.” He picks up his bags and heads outside. I run out after him and grab his arm.

“You can’t just leave. You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me,” I say hurt.

“вещи меняются (things change).”

“But I love you,” I whisper. He looks at me one last time before getting into his vehicle and driving away.

Notes