Page 207 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"I just..." He searches for the right words. "...I miss talking to my friend."

The sentence lands with quiet precision.

Not my therapist.

Not Annette.

My friend.

I close the chart carefully before answering.

"We've probably gotten a little too comfortable."

The moment the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back.

Jamie's expression doesn't change much, only enough for someone who has spent months learning to read him.

"I didn't realize that was a problem."

"It isn't."

"Then why does it sound like one?"

Because saying goodbye to a patient is easier than saying goodbye to someone who has quietly become part of your life.

Because every coffee after therapy makes the end a little harder.

Because somewhere along the way, I stopped looking forward to Jamie's progress reports...

and started looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I swallow every one of those thoughts.

"It isn't."

He studies me for another long moment. Finally, he nods. "Okay."

This time the word carries disappointment instead of acceptance.

He picks up his bag and walks toward the door.

Just before reaching it, he turns back.

"I'll see you Tuesday."

"Yes."

He offers one last smile. It is warm. Kind. And just a little uncertain.

Then he's gone.

The therapy gym feels strangely quiet after he leaves.

I sit at my desk and stare at the empty treatment table where he'd been sitting only moments earlier.

My phone buzzes.

Keisha… Call you later?