31. Annette #2
He watches one of my patients laughing with another therapist. "You see people."
I glance toward him.
"That's the hard part to teach."
He closes my chart. "Technique can be learned."
He smiles. "Compassion usually can't."
After he walks away, I sit there for a long moment.
Wondering when caring for people stopped being something I did and became who I was.
Maybe...
It happened somewhere in Briar Cove.
Maybe...
One stubborn hockey captain changed me more than either of us ever realized.
That evening I make coffee while finishing tomorrow's notes.
Without thinking I reach into the cupboard.
Two mugs.
I freeze.
For a long moment I simply stand there. One mug in each hand.
Finally, I pour coffee into both, carry them to the table.
Then I quietly pour one back into the sink.
Not because I want to forget him.
Because pretending I don't miss him hurts even more.
***
Week Six…
Saturday afternoon.
My phone buzzes. Unknown FaceTime.
Curious, I answer. The screen immediately fills with fur.
Golden fur.
Black fur.
Spotted fur.
One enormous tongue.
Another dog barks directly into the camera.
"Toby?"
The camera jerks sideways. Tobias Donovan finally appears. Barely.
One puppy is climbing onto his shoulders.
Another is chewing on what looks suspiciously like his shoelace.
"Hi."
I burst out laughing. "What is happening?"
"I volunteer at the shelter."
A puppy steals the phone.
The screen spins wildly.
"I can see that."
Toby rescues the phone. "Thought you might need some puppies."
"I probably did."
"I know."
For the next twenty minutes he introduces every dog by name.
Each one somehow stranger than the last.
One refuses to stop licking the camera. Another falls asleep across Toby's lap halfway through the conversation. A tiny terrier proudly trots past carrying one of Toby's sneakers.
He sighs. "Again?"
I laugh so hard tears sting my eyes. When the laughter finally settles, I smile softly.
"I miss them."
"The dogs?"
"The shelter. The town. Everything.”
Toby nods as though he already understands.
"They miss you too."
"The dogs?"
He grins. "The dogs."
A tiny pause. "The rest of us aren't exactly throwing a party either."
Emotion catches unexpectedly in my throat.
"I miss all of you."
"We know."
Another puppy barks loudly.
Toby looks down.
"I think Pickles wants to say goodbye."
The puppy immediately licks the camera.
I laugh again.
After we hang up the apartment feels strangely quiet.
Not empty.
Just farther away from the life I'd started building.
***
Week Seven…
When I first met the young teen Dylan six weeks ago, he couldn't imagine walking again.
Today...
He walks out of the rehabilitation gym with only a cane.
His mother cries openly. Dylan simply smiles. Before leaving, he turns back. "I want to thank you."
"You did the hard work."
He shakes his head. "You believed I could."
I smile. "It was easy."
"No." He looks at me for a long moment. "I think that's your gift."
His mother wraps an arm around his shoulders.
As they reach the door, Dylan looks back one last time.
"I'm really glad you came into my life."
The room falls silent after they leave. I stand there long after the door closes.
Jamie came into mine.
Not to change my career.
Not to change my future.
To change me.
***
That evening I call Mom.
She answers on the second ring.
"Hi, sweetheart."
My voice trembles.
"Mom..."
She immediately hears it.
"What is it?"
A tear slips free.
"I made the biggest mistake of my life."
Silence.
Gentle.
Patient.
Finally, she asks the only question that matters.
"What are you going to do about it?"
I look out the apartment window. Toward the fading sunset. Toward home.
A smile slowly finds its way onto my face.
"I'm going home."
***
Week Eight…
The final week of my rotation passes faster than I expect.
One last patient.
One last round of charts.
One last early morning cup of coffee in the therapists' lounge.
By Friday afternoon, the familiar routine already feels like a memory.
As I carry the last box from my apartment to the car, Dr. Lawson walks across the parking lot.
"So..."
He smiles.
"What's next?"
I glance toward the highway stretching beyond the hospital.
"I'm going home."
He studies my face for a moment.
"I had a feeling."
"You did?"
"You stopped talking about where you came from."
His smile widens. "You started calling it home again."
I hadn't even noticed.
He extends his hand. "They're lucky to have had you here."
I shake it.
"No."
I smile.
"I'm the lucky one."
***
Drive - Day One
By sunrise the next morning, everything I own is packed into the back of my SUV.
One last glance around the apartment.
The walls already look like they belong to someone else.
I switch off the lights, lock the door, and take the keys to the property manager.
Dr. Lawson was right.
I'm going home.
The first several hours pass almost peacefully. The farther I drive from Idaho, the more I find myself smiling, not because I know what waits for me. But because every mile feels like a step toward where I belong.
Then my imagination gets ahead of me. I picture Jamie opening the cabin door. His surprised smile. His arms around me.
I stop myself immediately. No.
I don't get to write that part.
Only Jamie does.
All I can do...
Is show up.
***
Drive - Day two
The doubts arrive somewhere in Nebraska.
Maybe they'd been riding with me all along. They simply waited until the excitement faded.
What if Jamie doesn't want to see me?
What if leaving hurt him more than I realized?
What if he's spent the last eight weeks putting his life back together...
Only for me to tear it apart again?
I pull into a quiet rest area and switch off the engine. For several minutes I simply sit there.
My phone rests in the passenger seat.
Jamie's number is still exactly where I left it.
One call. One warning that I'm coming. One chance to find out whether I'm making the biggest mistake of my life.
My thumb hovers over his name.
Then slowly lowers.
No. Not this way. Not over the phone.
After everything we've shared...
After everything we've lost...
He deserves more than a call.
He deserves my eyes. My voice. My whole heart.
I put the phone back down, start the engine, and keep driving.
That night, I stop at a small roadside motel.
Nothing fancy.
Just clean sheets and a place to sleep.
As I unpack my overnight bag, something catches my eye.
Jamie's Frostholm hoodie.
I'd borrowed it months ago during one chilly evening on his porch.
Somehow it never made its way back into his closet.
I slip it over my head. The sleeves are still a little too long. It doesn't smell like him anymore.
Time and washing have seen to that.
But somehow...It still feels like coming home.
For the first time in weeks, I sleep without waking every hour.
***
Drive - Day three
The final morning begins before sunrise.
Coffee.
Gas station breakfast.
Another full tank.
Another stretch of highway.
Somewhere during those last hundreds of miles...
The fear changes, not because it disappears, but because it finally loses the argument.
I stop rehearsing speeches, stop imagining every possible reaction, stop trying to predict an ending I have no control over.
I can't decide what Jamie will say.
I can't decide whether he'll forgive me.
I can't decide whether he'll still want a future with me.
Those choices belong to him.
Mine is much simpler. Tell him the truth.
The closer I get to Briar Cove, the steadier my heartbeat becomes.
Not calmer.
Stronger.
By late afternoon, familiar roads begin replacing unfamiliar highways.
I pass the old diner where Jamie insisted the pie was worth the detour.
Then the overlook where we watched the first snowfall, and the little coffee shop where he remembered my order before I realized he'd been paying attention.
Every memory reminds me of the same thing.
I never stopped loving him. I only stopped believing I deserved to.
***
It’s late afternoon when the welcome sign for Briar Cove appears around the next bend.
Home.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. Maybe Coach was right. Maybe healing isn't about pretending you're fearless.
Maybe it's about moving forward anyway.
My heartbeat has become wonderfully, terrifyingly unsteady.
I still don't know what Jamie is going to say.
I don't know whether he'll forgive me.
I don't even know if he'll open the door.
For one frightening moment, I consider driving to Mom's house first.
Sleeping.
Thinking.
Waiting until morning.
My hands tighten around the steering wheel.
No!
I've spent eight weeks waiting.
Eight weeks wondering.
Eight weeks letting fear make my decisions.
Not today. Today I'm done running.
I don't need the perfect speech. I don't need guarantees. I don't need to know what happens after he opens the door.
I only know one thing. Jamie deserves to hear the truth.
I love him.
I've loved him for longer than I was brave enough to admit.
And whether he forgives me or not, he deserves to know.
I signal onto the familiar road leading toward his cabin.
For the first time in my life...
I'm not driving away from the man I love.
I'm driving toward him.