Page 148 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

I could erase it. Write something safer.

The team. Coach. Progress.

Instead, I leave it there.

Nothing else. Just her name. For the first time since meeting her I allow myself to really think about why that name appeared so quickly.

It's more than the shoulder. More than therapy. More than coffee after appointments.

She believed in me before I knew how to believe in myself again. She never looked disappointed on the bad days. Never made me feel weak for needing help, and never treated me like the injury was the most interesting thing about me.

She simply showed up.

Every time.

I rest the pen across the notebook.

I've always been the one checking on everyone else.

The captain.

The teammate.

The one people count on.

I look back down at the page.

Annette.

I could erase it.

Write something safer.

The team.

Coach.

Progress.

Instead...

I close the notebook for a moment, then open it again. The name is still there, and somehow that feels right. Not because I'm ready to call it love. I'm not. Not even close.

But for the first time in a long time, she's become part of the answer whenever I ask myself what I'm grateful for.

She’s become part of my life somewhere between the injury and getting it back.

***

The cabin grows quieter as the fire settles into glowing embers.

I toss another log onto the flames. It catches slowly, the cedar filling the room with its familiar scent.

My eyes drift toward the calendar hanging beside the refrigerator.

Tomorrow's date is circled. 10:00 a.m. Rehabilitation.

Annette's handwriting curves neatly beneath the appointment time.