Something about Yuri's phrasing of his apology makes Lilia pause. Not I won't do it again, but I won't let it happen again. That same struggle for mastery and control that she has seen over the past months of their training...but here combined with the look she had seen in his eyes when Yakov had told Yuri that his grandfather would not be there to watch his short program. Trying so hard to not appear vulnerable or weak -- or afraid.

(And Lilia Baranovskaya has made a few interesting observations of her own today, not all of which she intends to discuss fully with her ex-husband. In particular, while Yakov had been focused on Viktor's explanation for why he needed to fly back to Japan, Lilia had seen how Yuri's gaze had remained completely fixed on Viktor's Japanese skater, that Yuuri Katsuki. And without drawing any immediate conclusions, she will be paying very close attention to how her Yuri acts and reacts tomorrow, when Katsuki will be part of their group for the duration of the free skate.)

In the end, she rests a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle tense and then relax under her light touch. 'I'll be up for a while yet,' she says. 'And our doors are always open to you, Yuri -- mine and Yakov's. If you need anything else tonight, let us know.'

The too-old eyes in a too-young face look up at her for a long moment before Yuri nods once, still determined but a little less stiff than he had been earlier. 'Thank you, Lilia,' he says. 'I'll probably just go to bed, but...but thanks.'

It's as much of an answer as she had expected. So Lilia lets go, wishing him a quiet goodnight before leaving the room. And Yuri responds in kind, waiting until the door closes behind her before flopping back on the bed with a long sigh, sprawled out with the ice bag tucked against his hip and with one arm over his eyes. Even with only the bedside light turned on, it's a little too bright in the room.

He's tired. He ought to get some sleep. But sleep isn't going to come easily tonight.