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Chapter seventy-two

Luca

Tuesday, September 1, 2026

I ’m already dragging ass, and for once, it isn’t Gia’s fault. No, she slept great, actually. I, on the other hand, cannot say the same. I was up all night watching her sleep, terrified that if I took my eyes off her, she’d disappear. And when I finally let myself relax, Samara’s expression when those women were surrounding me at the airport haunted me all night long.

She barely spoke to me on the ride home, and when I texted her before bed, I never got a response.

Being away from Gia this weekend was harder on my mental health than I’d realized, and being with Samara makes it even more difficult to not have her around when I’m home. But I’m still glad I went. I had a great time, and Cici proved to herself that she could be responsible for Gia without anything bad happening.

We agreed to start rotating weekends going forward, and once the hockey season starts up, she’ll take Gia the day before, during, and after my away games. That way, I don’t have to worry about getting a sitter for her, and Cici gets about half the week with her at a time.

“Come on, Gia, let’s get you off to Uncle Mateo’s,” I say, lifting her onto my thigh.

***

“Hey, man. Thanks for letting me mooch off your babysitter,” I tell him.

“It’s not a problem. Thanks for the ride,” Mateo says as he dumps his gear into my trunk. “This week is about to be brutal. I’ve been slacking on my workouts,” he tells me, climbing into the passenger seat.

“I feel that. I worked out once the entire weekend I was away, and I couldn’t sleep for shit last night.”

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the headrest.

“Just one day at a time. That’s all we can do. We do this every year, and we’re still around.” He chuckles quietly.

***

“Come on, Luca! You’re slow as shit! We’re never gonna win a game if you don’t actually block the goddamn pucks!” Coach hollers at me, exasperated with my piss-poor performance today.

“Sorry, Coach.” I groan, knowing damn well there isn’t a response in the world that’ll save me from the absolute lashing I’m going to receive from him after training camp is over for the day.

He shakes his head, disappointment written blatantly on his face. Coach Allister turns his attention to the center of the room, pinning each of us with a withering glare. “Have any of you bothered to actually do your goddamn job and train properly in the offseason?”

Half of the team is standing here with our tails tucked between our legs. That would be a no.

“Figure it out!” he yells, stomping off toward the locker room.

An eerie quiet takes over the rink. We’re all on edge, out of practice, and out of shape. But no one is as terrified to fuck up as I am.

My brother may be the assistant coach now, but even he won’t save me if I mess this up. I’m only here because I proved I’m a good enough goaltender to make myself worth all the bullshit that follows me in the media. If I can’t even keep a puck out of our net, I’m a goner.

And I can tell everyone in the room sees that based on the way they’re all staring at me.

It won’t take long. I’ll get it together. I just need to stop the racing thoughts from distracting me.

***

“Goodnight, Gia, mia bambina ,” I coo, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing has slowed as she sleeps peacefully.

I’ve got another long day ahead of me tomorrow, but I can’t go to sleep without trying Samara one more time.

I send her a text.

Hey, princess. I hope you don’t miss me too much.

Who am I kidding? I’m the one who misses her. Not the other way around, but fuck, I wish the feeling were mutual.