Page 98 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

Chapter twelve

Annette

The Community Rink

Jamie writes in his notebook while he waits for me.

He sits near the windows at the edge of the therapy gym, his sling finally gone but his left arm still held close to his body out of habit. The small black notebook rests on his thigh, steadied by one hand while he writes with the other.

Only a few words.

Then he closes it. Not hurriedly. Not because he sees me watching.

He simply slips the elastic band around the cover and places it beside his water bottle as though writing in it has become as routine as checking the time.

I smile before turning toward the supply cabinet.

He kept it.

Two weeks ago, the notebook was only an idea. A way to give Jamie's constant need for goals, measurements, and proof of progress somewhere else to go.

Today’s Win.

Someone I Encouraged.

Something I’m Grateful For.

Nothing grand. That had been the point. Jamie had spent years measuring himself through goals, victories, statistics, and expectations. The notebook gives him a different scoreboard.

One where lifting his arm another inch matters.

One where encouraging Ethan counts.

And one where coffee with someone can become gratitude.

I still don’t know whether he has written my name again. I don’t ask. Some things deserve privacy.

“Good morning.”

Jamie’s voice reaches me from across the room. I glance over my shoulder.

“Good morning.”

“You’re smiling.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You were.”

“I work in rehabilitation. We’re allowed occasional optimism.”

His gaze drops briefly toward the notebook. When he looks up again, his smile is faint but knowing. “Convenient answer.”

“It’s also true.”

“Those are the dangerous ones.”

I point toward the treatment area. “Table three.” He stands without complaint. That’s progress too.