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“Five games.”

“At least.”

Ford pulled his hand free and got off the table too fast. His left leg took the weight and folded. Cole caught him under the arm before he hit the cabinet.

The paper on the exam table tore behind him.

“Easy,” Cole said.

Ford hated the word. He hated needing the arm around him more.

He waited until the leg held and stepped away. Cole let him go, but stayed close.

“We’re in a playoff race.” Ford braced one hand on the counter. “I can’t sit five games.”

Friedman watched him test his weight and fail to hide the result. “Your club has another goalie.”

“He’s twenty-three.”

“He’ll manage.”

Ford bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Halsey would manage. The kid might even be good, and Ford hated the mean little drop in his stomach at the thought.

“And if it doesn’t settle?”

Friedman set the pen down. “Then you’re done for the season, and we move the surgery up. If it does, we manage your starts and get you to June. Those are the choices left. Playing tomorrow isn’t one of them.”

Cole moved back into Ford’s reach. Their arms touched from shoulder to wrist. Ford left them there.

“I want that in writing for the team,” Cole said.

Ford looked over sharply. He hadn’t asked Cole to step in, but some of the pressure behind his ribs eased anyway. Cole had heard everything Ford hadn’t been able to think past. He was making sure nobody could send Ford onto the ice and pretend they hadn’t known better.

But Friedman heard it too. Not a teammate asking when their goalie would be back. Someone who expected to be there for what came next.

Cole stayed beside him, close enough that their arms still touched. The worry he’d kept out of his voice showed in the set of his mouth.

Friedman nodded. “Theo will have it before you get back to Port Haven.”

“He’ll also need the restrictions. All of them.”

“Cole.”

Cole looked at Ford then. “You asked me to come.”

He had because he couldn’t do this alone. Cole was doing exactly what Ford needed him to do. Ford just hadn’t been ready for Friedman to see how much he needed it.

“I know.”

Friedman handed Ford a printed sheet and walked them through the plan. Ford listened. He asked the questions he was supposed to ask and kept his voice level. By the time they left, he knew when Theo expected him in, what movements were out, and how much strength he had to regain before Friedman would clear him to skate.

He also knew Halsey would start against Iron Bay on Saturday.

In the parking garage, Cole opened the passenger door and waited while Ford lowered himself into the seat. He didn’t reach for him. He didn’t tell him to be careful. He only stayed close enough to catch him if his leg gave out again.

Once Ford was in, Cole shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

Cole started the truck and backed out. He checked Ford twice before they reached the exit from the garage, quick looks Ford pretended not to catch. The parking garage gave way to flat winter light and salt-gray traffic.