Fake Dating My Ex's Hockey Star Brother (Maya Scott) novel Chapter 259

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Chapter 0117

JUSTIN’S POV

“I’ve got good news for you today,” Gerald says, glancing at his screen.

I sit up straight and lean in a little because when your physiotherapist leads with good news, you don’t slouch through it.

“I’m anxious,” I admit. “Really anxious.”

He smiles, resting his chin lightly on his hands. “Want to guess what I’m about to tell you?”

I shake my head, even though I already have an idea what it is.

Come on, I haven’t been dragging myself in here for months, working my ass off, just for him to tell

me he got me ice cream. I’m here to get back on the pitch. And the only good news I care about is

one thing: I’m cleared.

I’ve been asking him every day since last week if it’s coming soon. We’ve only got three games left

before graduation, and it’s always been the same answer…no. Not even after I started running my usual laps again or after I came back fully for practice and even proved I can keep up.

The accident and surgery are behind me. The only thing standing between me and the ice is this clearance.

“Well, since you can’t guess.” He says, the smile still sitting on his face. “You’re cleared. And you can take the final clearance test, which I’m confident you’ll pass

I jump to my feet, slamming my hand on his desk. “Fuck yes!”

He chuckles, and leans back in his chair with his arms crossed, watching me. “We did it! Man, I’m pumped!”

“It was a rough time, wasn’t it?” he asks.

I spin back toward him, my disbelief still catching up. “You’re really sure I’m cleared? I can do this?”

Slowly, he stands, rounding the desk to face me properly.

“Justin, you were persistent,” he says. “Every week you came in here, and you did the work.”

I swallow hard and my throat tightens.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he adds, clasping his hands together and glancing down for a second before meeting my eyes again. “I haven’t been to a college hockey game in years. Probably a long time. But I’d be more than glad to come to your next one.”

Something about that cracks me open a little. Maybe because it’s Gerald, who’s seen me at my absolute worst; the sessions where I couldn’t even get the words out about the injury without shutting down, where I sat on his chair and genuinely believed I was done and now he’s standing here telling me he wants to watch me play.

I step forward and hug him. He’s not a small man but I’m taller so it’s a little awkward. He pats my back twice.

“You did good.” He says quietly. “You did really good.”

I try to hold it in. I really do. But my face crumples and the tears come anyway, and I just let them. Three months ago I genuinely thought it was over. I did things just to escape that feeling of helplessness, that hollow weight of not knowing who I was without the ice. And now I’m standing here and someone is telling me I have a chance again. That I can do what I love. That I can go back. I can belong there again.