Page 151 of The Pucking Arrangement

I snatch a towel, wipe my face roughly. Twenty minutes on the treadmill to flush out my legs. Then bench press. Then abs. Stick to the routine.

Focus on the season. The playoffs. Being a father.

Not on Erin’s laugh.

Or the way she looked at me when I was balls deep inside her, falling apart.

Or how her back fit perfectly against my chest, like she was designed to be there.

Fuck.

The treadmill beeps as I increase the incline, pushing my body faster, harder, desperate to outrun my own thoughts.

It doesn’t work.

By six-forty-five, I’m showered, dressed, mask back in place. A version of myself that looks whole if you don’t look too closely.

The scent of coffee and something sweet drifts up from the kitchen. Galina. Probably makingbliniorsyrniki, the kind of Russian comfort food meant to replace the emptiness in your heart.

As if carbs and fat can fix what’s hollow inside me.

I step into the hallway, pausing outside Ris’s door.

She’s been sleeping later since Erin left, like her little body is staging a silent protest. Like if she stays in bed long enough, maybe the world will reset.

Maybe Erin will be here when she wakes up.

I lift my hand and knock softly.

“Ris? Time to wake up, Amnushka.”

Silence.

No rustling of sheets. No sleepy mumbling.

Just the same empty quiet that has filled this house since Erin walked out the door.

I exhale, pressing my palm against the doorframe.

“Ris?” I say again, a little louder.

Still nothing.

I push the door open, bracing myself.

A tangle of blankets. A tiny, curled-up form buried beneath them, only a tuft of blonde curls visible at the top.

One arm clutches Mr. Waddles.

The other is wrapped around her cello.

“Ris,”I say, softer this time. But my voice still sounds wrong, rough with something I can’t swallow down.

No response.

I step closer, crouching beside her bed, watching the slow rise and fall of her breath. She’s never held the cello in her sleep before.

“Amnushka,” I try again, smoothing a hand over her curls. “School day. Let’s go.”

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