The house is quiet… at least, on the surface.

Elian is sprawled on the sofa, elbows on his knees, tablet in hand. Game diagrams, positioning, and strategies scroll across the screen. He stares at every detail with almost obsessive concentration. His brows are furrowed, his eyes tired.

The Stanley Cup is approaching. And he can feel it in every muscle of his body.

At the dining table, six-year-old Emma is hunched over her notebook while you help her with her homework. You can hear the sound of pencil scraping on paper.

But this calm is quickly broken by quick little footsteps.

Three-year-old Nina comes running toward the sofa. "Daddy! Look! Look!"

She waves a crumpled drawing under his nose.

Elian looks up for a second. "Yes… it's very pretty, Nina."

He immediately returns to his screen.

Nina remains rooted to the spot in front of him. "Daddy, really look!"

She climbs onto the sofa and tries to push the tablet away.

Elian sighs. "Nina... I'm working."

The little girl frowns. "No! Daddy's playing with me."

She grabs his arm.

Elian clenches his jaw. "Nina, not now."

She persists, tugging at his sleeve. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

He closes his eyes for a second. The fatigue, the pressure, the hours of training... it's all piling up. "Nina..."

His voice becomes drier. "Leave Daddy alone for two minutes."

The little girl steps back slightly, annoyed.

But she doesn't leave.

She starts tugging at the tablet again. "Daddy, look at my drawing!"

Elian finally loses his patience. "Nina!" His voice rings out in the living room. "I'm trying to work!"

Silence falls immediately.

Nina looks at him with her big, moist eyes.

She doesn't really understand. "But... I just want Daddy..."

She sniffs.

At the table, Emma has stopped writing.

Elian runs a hand over his face, annoyed and tired. "Nina, go play somewhere else."

She shakes her head. "No."

He sits up abruptly on the sofa. "Nina. Now."

She gets off the sofa but remains planted in the middle of the living room, arms crossed.

Elian hears the sound of a chair moving slightly at the dining table behind him. The atmosphere grows heavy.

He clutches the tablet in his hands.

"I have a match in two days…" His voice is lower, almost to himself. "I can't afford to mess up."

Nina sniffles again. "Daddy's mean…"

Emma whispers softly from the table: "Nina, come sit with me and Mommy…"

But the little girl shakes her head.

Elian stares at the screen, no longer really seeing the diagrams. He feels the tension throughout the room. Exhaustion weighs heavily on his shoulders.

He sighs deeply.

The living room remains silent.

And for the first time in several minutes, Elian realizes that the distance between him and his family isn't measured in meters in this room. But in something much heavier.