Page 155 of The Pucking Arrangement

Then, softer. Sharper.

“Or perhaps your appetite disappeared with your cellist?”

My jaw locks. I slam the blender on. The whirring drowns out everything.

Ris sighs dramatically but keeps eating, stuffing syrup-soaked bites into her mouth with single-minded determination. She’s halfway through her breakfast when she suddenly freezes. Fork suspended. Eyes wide with inspiration.

“I know!” she exclaims, nearly toppling her orange juice. “Erin could come to Fire Island with us this summer!” My grip tightens around my coffee mug. “There are plenty of rooms!”

Galina, of course, jumps right in.

“That’s an excellent idea,” she says, ignoring my warning glare. “Erin would love Fire Island. All that fresh air and sand.”

“And ice cream!” Ris adds enthusiastically. “And seashells! And?—”

I exhale, long and slow. My fingers loosen around the coffee mug, but my pulse kicks up.

Fire Island.

Could she?

If I asked, would she come back after the festival and before the tour?

It’s a possibility.

Or would she choose to stay in Croatia? With that heartthrobLuka.

“Time to go,” I snap, setting down my coffee and grabbing my shake. My voice is a blade, swift and unforgiving.

Ris pouts but obeys, sliding off her chair and stuffing one last syrup-soaked bite into her mouth before trudging toward the foyer.

The second she’s out of earshot, Galina strikes.

“Dmitri Alexandrovich.”

Low. Steely. Full-name treatment.

I exhale through my nose. Here we go.

“What are you doing?”

I pretend not to hear her, rinsing my mug with feigned precision.

Making sure my daughter is whole. Going to practice. Moving the fuck on.

But the silence is heavy, demanding an answer. “Taking my daughter to school,” is all I manage to say, reaching for my keys.

“Don’t play dumb.” Galina steps closer, her gaze pinning me in place. “You’re letting that girl walk away.”

I clench my jaw tightly.

“She’s an adult woman making her own choices,” I say stiffly. Detached. Controlled. “Not some…some possession I can keep.”

Galina’s expression doesn’t flicker.

“Oh?” She crosses her arms, unimpressed. “And did you ask her to stay? Give her a reason? Or did you stand there like a statue, watching her pack?”

I grind my teeth. Blood pounds at my temples.

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