Mathew Barzal was halfway through untying his skates when the familiar sound hit him — small, excited voices echoing just a little too loudly down the locker room hallway.

He looked up instantly.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, a grin breaking across his face. “Is that my favorite people?”

The twins came into view first, wobbling forward with the kind of confidence only toddlers had, Islanders jerseys hanging a little too big on them. Mathew stood up immediately, abandoning everything else.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he laughed, crouching down with his arms open. “Careful, you two. This place is not built for running.”

One of them made a beeline straight for him. The other hesitated, staring wide-eyed at the stalls, the gear, the players.

“Yeah, I know,” Mathew said gently, scooping one twin up and reaching for the other. “It’s loud. It smells weird. Welcome to Dad’s office.”

He kissed the top of each of their heads, holding them close like he’d missed them all day — because he had.

“You came to see me before the game?” he asked softly. “That’s my good luck charm right there.”

He glanced up, eyes warming when they landed on their mom.

“Thanks for bringing them,” Mathew said quietly. “I know it’s chaos getting them out the door.”

One twin tugged at his necklace, fascinated. Mathew laughed.

“Nope, that stays on,” he teased. “That’s Dad’s.”

He shifted them on his hips, turning so they could see the rest of the room.

“See all this?” he told them. “This is where Daddy gets ready to go fast.”

A teammate passed by and waved. Mathew smiled proudly.

“Yeah,” he added, softer now, brushing his thumb over a tiny cheek. “These two are mine.”

He bent his forehead to theirs for a second, grounding himself.

“Alright,” he murmured, voice full of affection. “You gotta wish me luck before you go.”

The twins leaned into him, and Mathew smiled to himself — calm, centered, heart completely full — exactly the way he always felt when his whole world showed up just to see him.