Page 164 of The Pucking Arrangement

“Thanks.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying not to fidget under his steady gaze. “Luka’s been helping?—”

A flash of something—anger? pain?—crosses his face before he masks it. “How is he?”

“Good,” I say carefully. “Busy with arrangements. Festival prep.”

“When do you leave?”

“Next week.” My voice drops to barely a whisper. “June eighteenth.”

He nods again, a muscle in his jaw working. “You’ll be amazing.”

“Dmitri—”

“Two minutes!” the coordinator calls, bustling past with her clipboard.

He takes a step back, putting distance between us. The mask sliding firmly back into place. “I should let you focus.”

And there it is—the confirmation of everything I’ve been trying not to believe. He’s letting me go. No fight. No declaration. No reason to stay.

“Right.” I force my fingers to return to the strings, dropping my gaze to the cello to conceal my eyes dangerously filling with tears. “I should run through the piece one more time.”

“Erin.” My name in his mouth still does dangerous things to my pulse. “I?—”

But whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as Liam appears, clapping him on the shoulder.

“They’re calling for the team,” my brother says, his eyes darting between Dmitri and me. “Ceremony’s about to start.”

I still feel Dmitri’s eyes on me, but I don’t look up, blinking away the hurt. “I’ll be right there.”

Liam’s already steering him away, leaving me alone on the stage with my cello and the hollow ache in my chest.

I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. What was I expecting? For him to fall on his knees? Beg me to stay? I’d made my choice, packed my suitcases, walked away.

And he’d let me.

The lights dim, spotlights focusing on the stage. My cue.

I straighten my spine, position my bow. This is what I do. This is who I am. A musician. A performer. Even when my heart is breaking, the music goes on.

The opening notes of “We Are the Champions” fill the space. Not the bombastic rock version, but Luka’s reimagining—something elegant and powerful, triumphant but tinged with longing. My gaze finds him automatically, standing with the team as they’re introduced. He’s watching me, his expression unguarded for once.

And what I see there steals my breath.

Want. Need. Something terrifyingly close to love.

But also resignation.

The crowd applauds as the commissioner begins the ceremony, but all I can hear is the music. All I can feel is the space between us, stretching wider with every passing second.

Why won’t he fight for me?

The questions linger, unanswered, as the music carries me away.

Chapter33

Champions and Russian Bears

Dmitri

---