Page 134 of The Pucking Arrangement

I exhale sharply, not ready for this conversation. Not when everything with Erin feels so fragile.

“Dima.” Galina’s voice softens as she steps closer. “I see how you look at her.”

“I don’t look at her any particular way,” I mutter, but the words ring hollow even to my own ears.

Galina laughs, a genuine, warm sound. “My dear boy, you look at her the way you used to look at Elena. Like she’s something miraculous you can’t quite believe exists.”

Heat crawls up my neck. I press my lips together, determined not to give Galina more ammunition.

“It’s good,” she says simply. “For you. For Ris.”

“Galina—”

“Elena would be happy,” she cuts in, her voice steady but gentle. “To see life here again. To see you both opening your hearts.”

I swallow hard against the sudden tightness in my throat. “She’s leaving for the summer. And then starting a tour in Europe in September.”

“Ah.” Galina tilts her head, completely unfazed. “And she’ll return when it’s finished, yes?”

“You don’t understand.” I drag a hand through my hair, frustration building. “It’s Dubrovnik. It’s thirty cities across Europe with Luka Havran. It’s the kind of opportunity musicians dream about.” I meet her eyes, willing her to understand. “I can’t ask her to give that up. Or to split her focus. She deserves to chase these dreams without...complications.”

“Complications?” Galina arches an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“She’s twenty-four, Galina. Twenty-four. Her whole career is ahead of her. The last thing she needs is?—”

“You?”

I exhale sharply. “Yes. Me. A thirty-two-year-old single father with a complicated life and playoff schedules and a daughter who—” My voice catches, and I have to force the next words out. “Ris is already attached to her. You saw how they are together.”

Galina waits, letting me work through it.

“What if she leaves and doesn’t come back?” The question scrapes my throat raw. “What if this tour turns into something bigger? What if she meets someone else? What if...” I press my lips together, the real fear finally surfacing. “What if I let Ris believe Erin might stay, and then she just...doesn’t? She has already lost her mother. I can’t let her lose someone else she’s starting to love.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawns in Galina’s eyes. “So it’s not just Ris’s heart you’re protecting.”

I look away, unable to hold her gaze.

“You’re afraid,” she says softly. “Not of her leaving, but of her not choosing to return.”

I scoff. “She needs space to explore, to figure out who she is as an artist. I won’t be the reason she gives up on that.”

Galina shakes her head, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “You travel constantly, Dmitri. Always on the road during the season. And yet, you always come back.”

“That’s different,” I insist.

“Is it?” Her eyes gleam with challenge. “You’re barely at home during playoffs. This house stands empty while you’re fighting for the Cup. And still, Ris knows you’ll return.”

“Because she’s my daughter?—”

“And she’s your anchor,” Galina cuts in. “Just as you could be Erin’s. A place to return to. A reason to come home.”

I stare at her, speechless.

“People who truly want to come back, do.” Her voice softens. “You know this better than anyone. Sometimes we must give others the freedom to leave so they can choose to return.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Galina’s shoulders lift in an elegant shrug. “Then you’ll survive. As you have before.” She reaches out, her fingertips just brushing my arm. “But Dima, has it occurred to you that perhaps she wants both? Her musicandyou?”

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