Page 64 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

The leather feels strangely luxurious after a week in a hospital bed.

I look out the window. Snow drifts lazily across the edge of the runway.

Everything feels...still.

For several minutes we simply sit. Then the engines begin their slow, familiar rumble and the aircraft eases away from the terminal.

Only after we're airborne does Coach finally speak.

"Cabin?"

I don't look away from the window. He already knows the answer.

Still…he asks.

I smile faintly. "The cabin."

He nods once. "I figured."

Silence returns. Clouds drift beneath the wings. And somewhere below us, highways disappear beneath fresh snow.

Coach folds his hands. "You know..."

I glance over.

"The guys are fine."

"I know."

"They really are."

"I know."

He studies me for a moment, then smiles. "I'm saying it because I know you're still thinking about them."

I don't deny it. Because he isn't wrong.

"They've got each other."

"They do."

"And they've got Ethan."

I nod.

"He'll be okay."

Coach leans his head back against the seat. "He will."

Neither of us says another word for the rest of the flight.

We don't need to. Sometimes friendship sounds exactly like silence.

I close my eyes, expecting exhaustion to claim me. Instead, a pair of green eyes slips into my thoughts. Annette.

The way she'd stood beside me without asking for anything in return. The way she'd challenged me, irritated me... and somehow made me laugh when I hadn't wanted to.

Somewhere over the Rockies, I catch myself wondering what she’s doing.