Page 309 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

Then I quietly admit the truth I've carried for years.

"I've spent most of my life wondering whether people were talking to Jamie Walker..."

My eyes meet hers. "...or the man who would someday inherit the Walker fortune."

The room falls silent again. Not an uncomfortable silence. A thoughtful one.

Annette doesn't answer immediately. She simply reaches for both of my hands and holds them between hers. Then she smiles the same smile she gave me the day we first stopped arguing and started becoming friends.

"Oh, Jamie."

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "I've never wondered how much money you have."

I swallow. "I know."

"No." She gently shakes her head. "I don't think you do."

She lifts one of my hands and presses a kiss against my knuckles.

"I fell in love with the man who brings coffee to exhausted nurses."

Another kiss.

"The man who worries about everyone else before himself."

Another.

"The man who carries little girls on his shoulders at charity events because they're too small to see."

My throat tightens.

"The money..." she says softly, "that's just a fact about your life."

Her fingers intertwine with mine.

"It isn't your heart and that's the part I fell in love with."

***

Annette’s expression softens into a knowing smile. “So, Toby knows.”

I let out a quiet groan. “He wasn’t supposed to.”

“That sounds like there’s a story.”

“There is always a story when Toby is involved.” I settle back against the sofa, still holding her hand. The memory has followed me for six years, not because the moment itself was particularly dramatic, but because Toby somehow managed to turn one of the most vulnerable conversations of my life into something that felt almost ordinary. “He helped me move into this place. I didn’t have much furniture yet, so we spent most of the afternoon putting together shelves and arguing over whether the television should go on the wall.”

“Let me guess. Toby wanted the biggest possible television.”

“He wanted one large enough to be seen from the arena.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“I told him it was ridiculous. He told me my priorities were flawed.”

***

Annette laughs, and some of the tightness in my chest eases. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear that sound after telling her the truth. The money has always made conversations feel heavier than they should. With her, somehow, even this begins to feel like something we can carry together.