62. DMITRI

62

DMITRI

"I'm not afraid," I tell him. "They all know."

My dad loses all his color. "They all know what?"

"About my knee."

His hands grip the baseball cap he's got on. " Why tell them? The season is almost over. You could have made it, renewing your contract first?—"

"It wasn't worth it."

My dad rubs his face repeatedly. He's not understanding, which makes my chest ache. It's more sad than anything.

"Hockey is not more important than permanently injuring my leg," I say clearly for the first time. "I have more to live for."

My dad is distraught. He glances over my shoulder at something.

Someone.

Kavi is here.

My eyes scan for any sign that she's upset. She went after her dad, and I tried to follow, but then my dad came out of nowhere.

Our gazes meet, and she gives me a genuine smile. The tension in my stomach eases. Whatever else happened between her dad and her, she's telling me she's going to be okay.

"Was this all her idea?" my dad hisses.

"Don't disrespect her." My tone is chilly enough to make him step back.

"If you respect her and treat her with kindness, you can be in my life," I say, not bothering to hide my boundaries. Not this one, ever.

"But you're the only good thing I have in my life."

My shoulders slump. "No, I can't be what's stopping you from being depressed or drinking. My career can't be what gives you purpose. You need more. It's…" I swallow. "Too much pressure on me. I hate it."

"But I helped you, didn't I?" he asks quietly. "Become a star."

Kavi comes to put a hand on my back. I'm here. You're not alone. You got this.

In a bizarre twist of timing, two members of the bad dad club have to deal with the perks of its membership on the same day.

"You helped me recover after my knee got hurt." My words thicken with memories. "You're my dad and you stood by me, and I love you?—"

"I love you, too."

"But I can't be what you need. Live for yourself, not for the expectations you're putting on my back."

"I thought this made you happy. You love hockey?—"

I can't help but look at Kavi. "It's not everything. It doesn't have to be. The happiest version of myself isn't someone who has to suck up the pain. Or someone too afraid to get close to people. You might never understand and that's okay, but I'm done living for your dreams."

"I want you to not have any regrets like I do," my dad whispers. "I have so many of them, the biggest being how I left your mother. And for what? A career I told her would be worth me coming here for."

The laugh is bitter and broken.

My perspective shifts slightly, hearing it. His obsession with legacy and hockey, I see him trying to balance scales, to make the fact that he left his wife and that she died, mean something. To have something to show for it.

If not his career, then mine.

"You can't change the past." My hand goes on his shoulder. "That's never going to happen."

He flinches, glancing away.

"But that's not as important as what happens now."

My dad's eyes swing back to me. "What happens now? I…" He gulps. "I want to be in your life. Don't leave me."

I've felt this way for such a long time, that the answer isn't snarled or minced, but told flatly. "That's what I want, too. For that to happen, you have to realize I'm not a kid anymore. Don't try to influence me. Don't tell me who to be or what to do."

"I have advice."

"That I don't want at this time."

"Then what?"

"Find your own version of happiness." I tilt my head. "I also recommend you don't drink. That's more for yourself, not me. It's not my fault when you do. It's yours."

With that, I turn to Kavi, who is watching me intensely. I kiss the bridge of her nose. "I should go inside and join the team."

Behind us, the dressing room is getting louder.

She nods. "I'll go grab my seat."

And then, to my surprise, she gestures at my dad. "Come on, Mr. Lokhov. Let's load up on snacks before the game starts. We need energy, so we can cheer him on."

Gratitude flashes across his face as if he thought we were going to send him away.

The last thing I see is them chatting as they walk away.

It's a memory that will stay with me for a long time afterward. Two of the most important people in my life, trying to bridge the gap between them. The possibility of it happening.

Hughes calls my name. He's come out to grab me.

"Hey." His blue eyes are shrewd and serious. "Smith is going to come after you tonight, since you're back on the ice again."

"Let him. I'll be ready."

I hold my hand out to Hughes, who looks at it with confusion. "What is it?"

"I'll wear it," I grumble.

It takes a moment for him to understand. His whole face brightens when he does.

He runs to grab it.

The headband he's been harassing me to put on all season.

Hopefully it's lucky enough for us to win tonight and then to win the final game that decides who takes home the Cup.