Page 231 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"Did he say you'd be holding him back?"

"No."

"Then whose decision are you making?"

The question hangs between us. Mine. "I'm doing what I think is best."

"No," Keisha says quietly. "You're doing what feels safest."

I don't answer. Because if I do...I'm afraid she'll be right.

"I have to go."

"Annette………"

"Keisha, I’ll call you when I’m settled in Idaho. And I’ll call Mom on the way.”

I end the call before she can say anything else.

For a long time, I simply stare at the dark screen. Then I pick up the last box. And carry it to the car.

The parking lot is still almost empty when I pull into Frostholm Medical Center, Walker Rehab entrance. The clock on the dashboard reads 5:41 a.m.

The sky is only beginning to lighten, exactly as I'd hoped.

No patients. No therapists. No difficult goodbyes.

My hospital badge unlocks the employee entrance one final time. The familiar click echoes through the quiet hallway. Everything smells the same. Fresh coffee. Disinfectant. The faint scent of the eucalyptus lotion the therapists keep in the treatment rooms.

For just a moment I let myself stand there. This place changed me, more than any classroom ever could.

I walk to Dr. Reynolds' office and slide a large envelope beneath his door.

Inside is my resignation letter, along with every evaluation, treatment note, and progress update Jamie's next therapist will need.

Every exercise.

Every restriction.

Every milestone.

Everything the next therapist will need.

Professional.

Complete.

Exactly the way Jamie deserves.

My fingers linger on the envelope for a heartbeat before I let go. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

I don't know whether I'm speaking to Dr. Reynolds...

To Jamie...

Or to myself.

On my way out, I pause outside Treatment Room Three. The lights are off and the room is empty. But I can still picture Jamie standing beside the therapy table, stubbornly insisting he could lift more weight than I'd prescribed.