“Maybe. But you were kids. You both need to let that go. I told her the same thing this morning. That we make decisions based on what we think is right at the time, and those consequences can follow us, but they don’t govern the path we’re on forever. It’s what we take from that experience and how we allow it to impact the choices we make as we move forward that mean the most.”

“I’m worried I’ve screwed things up and pushed her away again.”

“You two were never good at moderation. She’s trying to find a way to piece herself back together and fit you back in at the same time.”

That makes sense. “The interview didn’t help. She said the pressure is too much.”

“For her it is. Imagine if you’d been the one to lose her.”

“I did lose her.”

“But you had time to prepare for that loss. You had weeks, Ethan. We had those conversations where you’d idealized how things would go. You had your future all mapped out, but there were too many uncertain variables. Just like Delilah can’t handle the pressure now, she was less prepared to handle it then, but she would’ve tried for you.”

He’s right. She would’ve followed me wherever I went, and if I’d failed, she would’ve owned it, internalized it. As much as I hate it, she was right to ask for space. I’ve dominated her life these past months, forced myself into every spare moment I could, and pushed down all the boundaries she tried to set for me, for herself. When I really think about it, I’ve kind of been an asshole.

“She needs to be your equal, not a charm you stick in your pocket and carry around with you. She’s not the reason you’re playing the way you are, Ethan. You’ve always had the skills and the drive. You just needed the variables to line up.”

“But Lilah’s a big part of that.”

“She doesn’t have anything to do with your ability to play hockey. You’ve always been an excellent player. I remember the first year you played professionally. You were amazing to watch, all that anger channeled into the game. Professionally it was a great season for you, but emotionally, you struggled. And the further you got from the things that made you comfortable, the more your game suffered. You have all the things that make you comfortable right here.”

“Not Lilah, though.”

“She’s nervous about the trade talks. She’s afraid to lose herself again, especially when she’s finally on the path she set for herself.”

“I want her to come with me this time if I get traded.”

“Have you talked about that with her? Does she know that’s what you want? Is it what she wants?”

“I haven’t brought it up because I don’t know what next year is going to look like.” I know exactly what I want, but I honestly don’t know if she’ll want the same, which is why I’ve avoided the conversation, and maybe that wasn’t a great idea.

“Well, if it’s what you want, then you need to fight for that, son. For her. I think her biggest fear is that you want her for the wrong reasons. Her needing this time apart is as much about what she thinks you want as it is about her trying to put herself ahead of you. She was never good at that, just like your mother was never good at putting herself in front of me. They’re caretakers, sometimes to a fault. That’s something you’ll need to be mindful of in the future. It’ll be up to you to make sure you’re not always the first priority.”

I consider this for a moment, the dynamics of my parents’ relationship, how my mother’s world has always revolved around my dad, and his around her. I see now what he’s talking about. For eight years Lilah learned to live without me, and I her. But since I’ve returned to Minnesota, I’ve made my world revolve around Lilah and hockey. What I failed to consider is the life she built without me in it. In trying to make her mine again, I’ve upset her balance and her life, pulling her away from the things she loves outside of me.

“I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

“You put aside your own needs. You do what you’re doing—you give her the space she’s asking for.”

“That’s not easy.”

He chuckles. “No, but you’ll do it because you love her and you want to keep her in your life, like she wants to keep you in hers. For as strong as she is, she’s afraid of being let down again.”

“You’re really close to her, aren’t you?” I’m almost jealous of their relationship, because I’ve never been that close to my dad. This year has changed that to a certain extent. I’d always felt as if his disapproval over my career choice made it impossible to get close to him, that if I’d gone into medicine like he’d anticipated, we might’ve been closer. Or maybe not. Maybe this is just our time.

“She might not be my blood, but she grew up in this house, and she’s like a daughter. Lilah’s always been a big part of all of our lives, but as much as we love her, I don’t think she’s ever felt like she truly belongs anywhere.”

“She belongs with me.”

My dad laughs, his smile full of a knowledge that only comes from life experience and observation. “So I guess you need to make sure she understands that she’s the other half of your soul, and that you need her because you love her, and no other reason.”