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“Perfect! Do again,” He exclaimed, tossing the puck back out on the ice. “I didn't– papa, I didn't score,” She whined, her glove wiping against her visor despite there being nothing that would cover her vision. “Yes,” He agreed, shifting his knees with a brief wince. “You score against daddy, me, never,” He said, smiling widely at her. Shane scoffed from the sidelines.
Irina looked to the side, waving at Shane, who waved in return. One day, his toddler would grow up to make him eat his words. Maybe she would grow up to be the captain of her own hockey team. Or a figure skater, winning all the trophies in the world, all within one room or maybe even 10 .