Page 239 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

My voice sounds strange in the empty room.

"I know."

I pick up the coffee. It's cold.

Without thinking, I walk to the microwave.

My hand reaches for the buttons.

I stop.

What am I doing?

Annette isn't coming.

She isn't running late. She isn't finishing paperwork. She isn't parking her car. She's gone.

I stand there for a long moment before quietly pouring the untouched vanilla latte down the sink.

Watching it disappear somehow feels like another goodbye.

***

I should eat.

Instead, I wander.

My shoulder exercises are still taped to the refrigerator exactly where Annette left them.

Three pages. Color-coded.

She'd laughed when I told her only kindergarten teachers used colored markers.

"Apparently they also work on stubborn hockey captains."

I smile before I can stop myself. The smile disappears just as quickly.

My hand brushes over the papers. I don't take them down. I can't.

Instead, I keep walking.

The living room blanket is folded neatly over the arm of the couch.

The same soft gray one she'd wrapped around herself during movie night when she'd insisted she wasn't cold.

"You've been shivering for ten minutes."

"I'm perfectly comfortable."

"You've stolen my blanket."

"I've borrowed your blanket."

"That's not how stealing works."

"It is if I eventually give it back."

I sink onto the couch. The blanket still smells faintly like vanilla lotion and peppermint shampoo.