Page 23 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

The single word lands heavier than I expect.

"He's convinced he ended your season."

I close my eyes. Of course he is.

No...don't think that. I smile to myself. Strike "of course" from the vocabulary, Walker.

The truth is simpler. He's nineteen. He cares.

"Put me on with him."

"Not yet."

"Coach—"

"He won't answer."

I let that settle. The kid probably isn't answering anyone.

"Then tell him something for me."

"I'm listening."

"Tell him..." I stare out the window. "...that I'd make the same choice again."

Another pause.

"He didn't ask me to step in."

"I know."

"He didn't do anything wrong."

"I know."

"So, make sure he knows."

Coach's voice softens. "I will."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. He's always been good at that, never filling the quiet just because it exists.

Finally, he asks again. "Now..."

"Yeah?"

"How are you?"

I look down at the sling, at the hospital bracelet around my wrist, at the room that feels entirely too still.

"I've been better."

Coach laughs.

Before we can continue, there's a knock at the door. The handle turns. And a familiar calm voice says, "Good morning, Mr. Walker."

Annette, clipboard in one hand, coffee in the other, and looking entirely too awake for this hour.

Coach chuckles through the phone. "I'll let your nurse win this round."