Chapter 44
Kacey
It’s several hours later when a middle-aged, slightly round nurse with a brunette bob comes to find us in the waiting room. “He’s out of surgery and it went well. One of you can come back and see him now.”
“You go.” Trey gives me a small smile. “He’ll want to see you way more than me.”
“We’ll be here, let us know if you need anything,” Jessie adds, as I stand to follow the nurse.
She leads me down a long hallway and through another set of locked doors. The smell of antiseptic churns my already unsteady stomach. It’s cold, dark, and quiet—no sound but the beeping of monitors coming from the surrounding rooms.
“Be prepared,” the nurse gently tells me, “he has a lot of tubes and wires connected to him right now. There is some swelling in his chest cavity as well. We normally don’t allow overnight visitors, but since it’s the middle of the night, you can stay.”
“Okay, thank you.”
She opens a sliding glass door and gestures for me to go ahead of her. I enter and see Knox is lying in a hospital bed, tubes, wires, and machines surrounding him. He’s so pale, he looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in years.
I walk to the side of the bed, fighting tears. “Can I hold his hand?” I ask the nurse, voice cracking.
“Of course, just don’t knock the oxygen monitor off. There is a chair you can use. I also set a blanket and pillow out for you. Someone will be in every hour to check on him. The nurses’ station is down the hall to the left. Let us know if you need anything.”
The sympathetic look in her eyes has me wondering how many people she’s done this for. How many people has she walked down that hallway only for them to walk out missing a piece of their heart? Their loved one lost to them.
After she leaves, I sit next to him, grasp his hand in mine, and let the tears fall. He looks fragile, but Knox is anything but fragile. He’s full of life, all smiles and winks.
“Hi, I’m here,” I whisper, even though I know I won’t wake him.
“My surprise visit really went off the rails. This is not the way I expected this to go. We were supposed to meet at a bar.” I huff out a sad chuckle.
“But I’m here Knox. And I’m not going anywhere until you get better. You have to get better.”
I jerk awake, my back killing me from the position I had fallen asleep in. I’m still holding Knox’s hand, and I don’t remember falling asleep. I think I cried myself to sleep.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” says the nurse checking Knox’s vitals and machines.
“No, no, it’s okay.” I look up at Knox. He looks the same, like he’s asleep but pale and covered in tubes and wires.
“I’m going to check his incision now. Why don’t you step out and get some coffee?” she suggests, probably gathering from the state of my swollen eyes and shaky hands, I won’t handle seeing his torn-up body well. She’s right.
I stand and find a quiet corner of the hallway. Pulling out my phone, I dial my dad.
“Dad—” Is all I can manage to choke out as another tear rolls down my cheek. Frustrated, I wipe it away.
I have to get it together. Knox needs me and I can’t stop crying.
“Kacey, honey, I’m so sorry. What can I do? Do you want me to come there?” He sounds tired but wide awake, I doubt he’s slept at all.
“No, don’t come. He’s in the ICU, no one can come back here. I just— I . . .” He listens as I cry for a few seconds, then collect myself enough to continue. “I don’t know how to do this. I can’t breathe.” My breaths start to get shallow, and I know I’m slipping into a panic attack.
“Kacey, listen to me. Breathe in . . . hold it.” He waits seven seconds before having me release the breath. He repeats this with me several times until my breathing levels out. “Is it the hospital? I know you struggle with them.”
“It’s more than that, Dad. Knox is . . .
it’s really bad. He’s so pale, swollen, and there is a tube down his throat.
What if he never wakes up?” I cry into the phone, saying the thought that has haunted me all night out loud.
“I want to be here for him, but I don’t know if I can do this. Sit by and watch again.”
“What do you mean again?”
“Like Mom—I saw it all, and I don’t think I can do it again. But I love him so much. I need him to wake up so I can tell him, but I don't know if I can do this.”
“Your—” Dad sucks in a breath. “Kacey, you watched? Your mom?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I think they kind of forgot I was there. They were trying to help her, and I was okay.”
“Oh, god . . . Kacey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Why have you never told me?” I hear him sniffle, and I know he’s crying.
“You were sad, and I didn’t want to make it worse. Then, the years went by, and I just wanted to forget. But I can’t and now I’m here and I don’t know what to do.” I sob into the phone, wishing he was here to hug me and help me through this.
It takes him a minute to respond, the shock of my admission still processing.
After a beat, he clears his throat and collects himself.
“I’m sorry I never knew. I want to talk to you about this someday, but for right now, let’s focus on Knox.
The doctors said he’s stable, right?” His voice is steady and calm.
“Yes.”
“That’s good. He’s young and healthy, physically fit.
His body is going to fight for him. He’s as tough as they come.
The doctors are doing everything they can and you’re there with him.
That’s what he needs more than anything—you love him, and I know he loves you.
We have to believe he’ll wake up. He has so much to live for, and he knows that.
The little bit I’ve gotten to know him; he isn’t a man who gives up easily.
I believe he’ll be okay, and more than anything, I believe in you, Kacey.
You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. ”
“Even if he makes it through this, what is going to keep it from happening again?”
“Nothing. You don’t know if or how badly he’ll get hurt in the future. Do you want him to quit?”
“No, of course not. I can’t ask him to quit. Bull riding is part of who he is. I just don’t know if I could handle anything like this happening again.”
“Bug, that is the question you are going to have to dig deep to answer for yourself. At some point, we are all faced with choices and our decisions will affect the rest of our lives. Choosing to marry your mom ended with the deepest heartbreak of my life. But it also gave me my greatest gift—her love—and my greatest joy, you. Even knowing how it would all end, I would choose the same road again just for the honor of loving her and the joy of being your dad.”
Tears pour down my face.
“You need to consider what life will look like with and without Knox in it. Is the risk worth the reward? Does your love outweigh your fear of losing him?”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in.
We’ve only been together for a few months, but when I see my future, I can’t picture it without him.
He’s brought me back to life. He’s my best friend, my safe place, my home, my choice.
“He said nothing in this world could stop him from being with me, and I believe him. Our love outweighs anything else.”
“It sounds like you’ve found your answer, Bug. It won’t be easy but focus on this moment and what you both need to make it to tomorrow. And then the next day. Everything is going to be okay.”
Knox is still in danger, but my dad is right. I have to believe he’ll be okay, and we will get our future together.
“Thanks, Dad. You’re always there for me. You’re right: he’s strong, he’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.”
For the next thirty-six hours, I don’t leave Knox’s side.
Jessie befriends all the nurses, bringing them snacks, and sharing war stories.
She is an ER nurse, not ICU, but they all speak the same language.
They end up letting me stay the next night as well.
He’s still in the induced coma but last night’s scan showed the swelling has gone down.
Trey has just left the hospital to go ride again.
He and Jessie seemed to have come to some kind of truce and put all their focus on being there for Knox and me.
His mom is flying in tomorrow morning. I have been keeping her informed with any updates, and she’s trying to get here as quickly as she can.
This wasn’t exactly how I pictured meeting his mother, but she’s been kind on the phone.
I can tell she loves her son, and she’s glad I’m here with him.
They told me he can’t hear me, but I’ve been talking to him anyway.
Maybe it’s for my own peace of mind. I know he’s far from being out of the woods, the doctor said that Knox waking up after lowering the medication is going to be our biggest indicator of his likelihood of recovery.
We still don’t know if there will be any lasting damage.
They did another scan a few minutes ago and, depending on the results, they’d like to wean him off the medication today.
“Hi, sweetie. How’s our cowboy today?” The nurse who originally brought me back to Knox’s room is back on duty today.
I learned her name is Melissa, she has two kids about my age, and you can tell she’s a mother through and through.
She’s taken me under her wing, checking on not only Knox, but me as well.
She brought me protein shakes when I couldn’t eat and tea to calm my nerves.
Even when her shift was over, she came and sat with me, asking about Knox and me.
Surprisingly, talking to her about how we met, and his bull riding felt good.
Her kindness kept me sane during those first few hours.
“Hi, Melissa. He’s still tough as nails.” This makes her chuckle as she reviews his chart. “They just did another scan a few minutes ago, and the doctor is supposed to come by soon with the results. The scan last night showed the swelling was down some.”
“Good, I expected nothing less. He needs to wake up soon—I have some serious questions about his career choice.”
I laugh and she smirks at me. I have no doubt that was her goal.
“I brought some cookies—come to the nurses’ station and help yourself,” she says before ducking out of the room to check her other patients.
I’ve been doing better since my phone call with Dad. I still cry and worry, but overall, I’ve been able to focus on Knox and be here for him without having panic attacks or leaving the hospital.
The doctor comes in and lets me know the swelling has gone down enough that they will begin to wean him off the medication. Now the decision to wake up will be on Knox. Ideally, he wakes up within the next twenty-four hours.
I stay with him as late as I can, but the nurses can’t let me stay another night. So, after Trey rode in the short round, he brought the camper to the hospital, and we all slept until I could go back to the ICU in the morning.
“Any change?” I ask as I stand at the nurses’ station sipping my coffee. I set the tray of coffee Jessie sent in for them on the counter.
“Hey, Kacey. No change so far,” Knox’s other nurse, Lindsey, replies. “But now that he’s basically off the medication, he might be able to hear you. Talking to them normally helps,” she says, giving me a small smile.
“Okay, thanks. His mom should be here this afternoon, too.”
I step into his room and slide the chair up to sit next to him. His color looks better today and someone combed his hair. There is also a bag of cookies on the side table. Melissa, no doubt. These nurses are underpaid angels on earth.
I tell him about Trey getting second last night, even playing the video so he can listen.
How they’re both officially qualified for the national finals in December now, and that he finished the regular season number one in the world.
The internet is filled with supportive and encouraging posts from fans wishing him well.
His sponsors have reached out to Trey, asking if there is anything they can do.
One even offered to fly his family here.
It’s touching to see how many people truly care about him. Including my dad, who has been worried sick about us both and is now using spoiling my dog rotten as a coping mechanism.
The doctor comes and goes on his morning rounds. He emphasizes how important it is that he wakes up soon. The sooner he wakes, the less likely brain damage is.
His mom will arrive in two hours, and while I want her here, I can’t stand the thought of leaving Knox.
And only one of us can sit with him in the ICU.
I know it should be her, and I won’t fight her for it, but there are moments where holding his warm hand, feeling the callouses scrape my skin, is the only thing keeping me breathing.
I’m having one of those moments, holding his hand and reminiscing on this spring, how much he changed my entire world the day he showed up at the ranch. The machines beep their steady rhythm, as the nurses bustle past the glass door, and I finally break down.
“You promised me. You promised me nothing in the world could stop you from being with me. So you have to wake up, you have to come home. Mountain Time, remember? We have plans. We have dreams. Please wake up, Knox. I love you.” My voice cracks and tears fall, but I keep going.
“You told me you can’t lose me; well I can’t lose you either.
You are the air I breathe, and I can’t do this without you.
In fact, I refuse. So wake up, because I love you,” I beg.
The confession seems to break apart the silent room.
I rest my head on the edge of the bed, still holding his hand, shoulders shaking as I let the tears soak into the bedsheet. I don’t know how much time has passed when I feel his hand shift in mine. I jerk my head up so fast I see stars for a second. His eyes aren’t open, but his hand moves again.
“Knox—” I choke.
His eyelids flutter, and then I see them, his bright blue eyes. I’m sobbing again, holding his hand tighter. His eyes flare.
Shit, the tube in this throat.
“Hold on, I’ll get the nurse. Don’t close your eyes,” I plead as I press the button for the nurse. “They’ll come get it out.”
A nurse hustles into the room and calls for the doctor. “Hi, Knox. My name is Lindsey and we’re going to get this tube out of your throat soon. Just stay calm and try not to move.” Knox seems to ignore her, squeezing my hand and keeping his eyes on me, never closing them. Just like I asked.
As soon as they remove the breathing tube, Knox’s first word is “Sweetheart.” His voice is raspy from disuse and the tubes, but I’ve never loved hearing that word on his lips so much.