Page 59 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

Bad idea. My ribs immediately file a formal complaint. I wince and press my good hand lightly against my side.

Annette looks entirely too satisfied. “Laughing still hurts?”

“Yes.”

“Good reminder.”

“You’re using my sense of humor against me.”

“I use whatever tools are available.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “You’re stealing my phrases now?”

“I’m injured. You should allow me small pleasures.”

“That excuse expires when you leave the building.”

“Good to know.”

She picks up another sheet. “These are your first home exercises.”

I stare at the packet. “Already?”

She taps the exercises page. “These are not optional.”

“I figured.”

“Do them exactly as written.”

Leaving.

I’ve wanted it since the first morning. Since the first time I woke up in this bed and realized I couldn’t sit up without help. Since the first time I had to let someone else bring me water, adjust my sling, hold the back of a T-shirt so I could get dressed like an adult.

I should be counting the seconds. Instead, the paper feels heavier than it should.

Annette notices because she notices everything. Her voice softens. “Going home is good news, Jamie.”

I look up. She used my first name. Not Mr. Walker. Not Captain. Jamie.

For some reason, the room gets quieter. “I know.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You look like someone just handed you a penalty.”

I glance down at the discharge packet. “Hospital rules are annoying.”

“Yes.”

“But clear.”

She waits.

I run my thumb along the edge of the paper. “At home, it’s just…”