Page 204 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

“I have charting to finish.”

“Oh.”

The single word is quiet.

He reaches for his water bottle. “Another day.”

“Another day.”

Jamie smiles because he is kind enough to make the moment easier for me.

That makes it worse. The rest of the session continues efficiently. Professionally. Exactly the way it should.

I measure. He moves. I record the results.

There is no joking about stubborn hockey captains. No conversation about terrible motels, peonies or coffee sleeves folded into tiny shapes. I do not ask what happened at practice. He does not tell me about Liam’s latest poster.

By the end of the hour, we have completed more work than usual.

It feels like less.

Jamie pulls on his jacket while I finish the notes. “Same time Thursday?”

“Yes.”

He waits as if expecting something more.

I keep my eyes on the chart.

“Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

When I finally look up, he is still standing there.

The easy smile he usually wears around me is gone, replaced by something more thoughtful.

“Annette.”

My hand tightens around the pen.

“Yes?”

“If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

There is no accusation in his voice. No pressure. Just the same quiet concern he offers everyone else.

For one dangerous second, I almost do. I almost tell him that his recovery is ending too quickly.

That every improvement now feels like a clock counting down. That I have spent months helping him reclaim his life and never considered what it would feel like when he no longer needed me in it. I almost tell him that his future will not be with me.

Instead, I smile. “I know.”

Jamie holds my gaze. I can tell he knows I have answered a different question.

Still, he does not push.

“Okay.”