Page 205 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

He leaves a moment later.

The therapy gym feels larger after the door closes behind him.

I look down at the progress report.

Remaining Therapy Sessions: 9

The number has not changed since this morning.

Everything else has.

For months, I measured success by how much closer Jamie moved toward leaving.

Today, for the first time, I wish healing would slow down.

***

Thursday arrives far sooner than I expect.

For the first time since Jamie became my patient, I find myself hoping he might be running late.

It would give me a few extra minutes to collect myself.

Instead, he arrives five minutes early, as always.

He walks into the therapy gym carrying his coffee in one hand and his exercise band in the other.

"Morning."

"Good morning."

He studies me for just a second before setting his things on the treatment table.

"I brought my own coffee today."

"I noticed."

"I figured you were busy."

"I appreciate that."

The words sound polite. Too polite.

I hear the difference the moment they leave my mouth.

So does Jamie. He doesn't mention it. He simply nods and begins his warm-up without another word.

For several minutes the only sounds between us are the steady rhythm of his exercises and the quiet scratching of my pen across the progress notes.

His shoulder continues improving exactly as the orthopedic team predicted.

External rotation has nearly normalized. Strength has increased again.

His confidence on the injured side grows a little with every visit.

Objectively, this is one of the most successful rehabilitation programs I've ever supervised.

Objectively.