21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
River
I t was six long hours before I could see Gray.
Tate was granted access much sooner. His departure, with Joy at his side, leaving me alone in the otherwise empty waiting room.
Only when he reappeared hours later was I given any update. “I told them you’re his wife, so you can go in now,” he’d whispered before wrapping Joy in a tight hug. The two holding one another as if it may be their last.
It’s been an hour of silently crying while cradling Gray’s hand between mine. No matter how long I’ve held it, the temperature never seems to rise. There’s no movement or sign he’s aware I’m here.
Gray hasn’t moved a wink since surgery. The deep bruises already forming all over his body only make me more anxious. I’d looked over every inch of him as soon as I could.
He’s not my patient right now, and it would be a breach to read his chart, but the nurses and staff have answered every question I’ve had. The last relaying what Buckner had done to keep me out. “None of us care what he says,” she rolled her eyes, hanging another bag. “We weren’t keeping you out once he was gone.”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I had nothing to say that would truly convey the gratitude filling my heart.
Now we just have to wait for him to come back to us. Back to me.
“Gray, baby. I need you to wake up.” My fingers twitch to run through his hair, only to eye to thick white bandage wrapped around his skull. With thick hair like his, I’m sure it’ll grow back quickly, but almost half of it was shaved for access. “I need you to wake up. I will never forgive you if you leave me now. You promised me you’d be okay. Well, maybe not in those words, but your eyes said it. Just wake up, Gray. Please.”
A choked sob breaks free just as knuckles rap against the door.
“Hey.” Tate’s large frame ambles forward. His shoulders curled inward as if heavy weights hung from them. That same exhaustion weighing on me also present in him.
“Hi.”
“Anything yet?”
I can only shake my head, roughly wiping away my tears. “No.”
“Do you mind if I have a few minutes with him? There are a few things I’d like to say. The nurses said he could still hear me.”
Part of me wants to question why he didn’t say his peace all those hours he and Joy were in here, but I hold my tongue. That’s his brother in that bed. Someone he loves as much as…
“Of course.” I’m up and out of my chair in an instant, snatching my purse from the floor where I’d dropped it. One of the riders from the ranch brought my things, figuring I wasn’t coming back tonight.
“Thanks, River.”
I give a close-lipped smile before I sneak through the door, closing the heavy slab of wood softly. My heart left behind in that hospital bed with those beeping monitors.
Aimlessly wandering down the hall, I question if I should go home. Gray’s house. Our house, now. The animals will need to be cared for, and the dogs. Who is going to do all that?
A heavy sob leaves me suddenly overwhelmed with every emotion and the reality of doing life without Gray. We’ve barely been apart since the day we met.
I’m not this woman. I’m not emotional like this.
Yet being with Gray is changing me. A reality I’m not sure how to handle.
“River,” a familiar voice calls my name. I’m slow to sit up, my gaze drifting around the waiting room I don’t recall stopping in. The dark spots on my jeans from the tears I can’t seem to stop shedding glaring back at me.
“Beckett? What are you doing here?” My fingers swipe under my eyes roughly. The skin tender beneath my touch.
“I heard what happened. I figured you would be here and wanted to see if you needed anything.”
I can only stare at my ex. The man who was clearly taken aback that I was dating a bull rider, but yet he’s here checking on me. “I—” If only I knew what I needed right now other than for Gray to wake up. To talk to me. To spew the stupid shit that comes out of his mouth but makes my belly ache with laughter and my core tighten in anticipation of being fucked.
“How about a coffee?” He holds out his hand to me, patiently waiting for me to take it.
I don’t. The thought of another man’s touch makes me cringe with guilt, but I follow him down the hall and to the ground-level cafe. Beckett is the last person I want to be with right now, but it beats being alone.
There’s no awkwardness, just a grief-filled silence. The air thick with questions about my well-being Beckett is itching to ask, and the stream of worries now saddled on my shoulders.
Beckett grabs the two cups of coffee from the stand, leading us to a table near the windows, waiting to sit until I do. “Are you okay?” he whispers, dipping his head to catch my eye.
A humorless huff leaves me. “No, I’m not. They kept me out because I wasn’t kin until Tate told them I was his wife. I wasn’t allowed to see him.” The words come out watery, a sob lodging in my throat to punctuate each sentence.
“River, I’m really sorry.” His hand reaches for me but suddenly pulls back. “Do you love him?”
My gaze darts up to find an expression on Beckett’s face I can’t place. His small mouth almost seems puckered as it twitches, waiting for my response.
Memories of our time together flash through my mind. A relationship so empty of passion I’m not sure you could call it one, there for my viewing.
Averting my gaze, I twirl my to-go cup between my fingers. Then meet his stare again. “I think I do.”
He only mindlessly nods as if hoping the answer would have been different. “That’s good. Really good. I’m happy for you, River.”
“Beckett, we never would have—” The words won’t weasel themselves free. I don’t want to hurt him, but we both knew when we dated, we wouldn’t become anything beyond what we were.
The two of us were nothing more than fleeting moments to pass the time.
“I know. I just want to be here for you as a friend. I’m not expecting anything else,” he assures me before taking a long pull of his coffee.
We fall into a comfortable silence. The both of us guzzling our cups, only for Beckett to pour another for me. A perk of our cafeteria is a twenty-four-hour coffee and tea station for visitors. An amenity I never thought I’d have to use.
Staring down at my newly filled cup, I don’t drink it. The contents are churning my stomach. Every bit threatening to make a reappearance.
“I should head back.”
“Of course.” Beckett pulls me into a quick hug. The scent of his cologne and the familiar squeeze of his arms only making me want to break free faster. “Bye, Beckett. Thank you,” I whisper, turning on my heel toward the elevators. Toward the man I need a future with.
Please wake up.
I’d barely made it ten minutes by Gray’s side before deep sleep pulled me under. My face planted beside his deathly still leg. Only to wake under the shadow of Tate’s looming form above me.
“Go home, River.” A plea, not a request.
My arguments for staying by Gray’s side got me nowhere.
“You can’t be here for him if you don’t take care of you,” Joy insisted, angling me toward the door and out of the hospital.
Fortunately, she hadn’t said a word when I had her drop me at the arena. My empty thanks only met with pitying eyes as I shuffled to Gray’s truck. There was no calming the tremble of my hands, forcing myself to accept I was going home alone. To a house that was still becoming ours.
The two of us and our fur balls and the horses and cows.
The whole drive home, my eyes burned with tears. Tears I refused to shed. My hands gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles popped, but it was all I could do to keep my eyes on the country roads ahead. A lonely path, stuck with my intrusive thoughts.
A lone tear slides down my cheek as I drag myself up the front steps. My hand shaking, attempting to slide the key into the lock. The following click, dragging a sob out of me.
The scrape of Bronc and Bull’s nails against the door only draws out a waterfall worth of tears. They’ll be expecting their dad, and he’s not here. The two bushels of fur nearly tackle me as I walk through the door.
I know they’ve already been fed and let out. One of the guys Gray hired took care of all the animals. He promised he would be here every morning and night with a few others to make sure things got done, but he’s long gone now. I can’t even recall his name. My mind is nothing but a heavy fog, leaden with dread.
“Come on, guys.”
The dogs excitedly follow me into the house and straight into the bathroom, where they both sit in front of the sink and watch me.
Stooping low, I scratch them behind their ears. Their groans turning low and sad. “I know boys. I wish he were home, too. I promise I will try to take good care of you.”
Bronc only licks my face before lying down. Bull following suit seconds later with yet another heartbreaking groan.
Standing back to my full height, my palms find the bathroom countertop. Leaning forward, my head drops between my shoulders. I’m not used to being this emotional. Even when my grandfather died, I took it better than this. But fuck, if Gray doesn’t make it out of that hospital bed, I don’t know what I will do with myself.
I honestly don’t know what I am going to do now while he’s there, still and quiet. The sound of his laughter in my head forcing my eyes to press shut, my wet lashes cold against my skin.
I’ll hate myself if he wakes in a strange place, he may or may not recall being taken to, and wonder where I am. Injured or not, I’m not sure he’ll appreciate Tate’s face being the first one he sees. Especially not after feeling so betrayed.
Time passes at its own precarious rate as I stay hunched over the counter. My muscles aching from all the tension of the night, but unable to move. Even lifting my head to eye the shower behind me drains every bit of energy I have left. But Bronc nudges my foot as if reminding me I can’t just stall out. Even without my heart being here, I still have to keep moving.
Rolling out my neck only releases a groan. Bull’s sharp bark in response drawing my pitying gaze back down to him. “I know, boy.” My muscles could use a bath, but I fear I’m too tired. The exhaustion like cement in my limbs.
The warmth of the water would only pull me into a coma-like sleep. Drowning is just one more issue none of us needs today.
Stripping out of my clothes seems like the most arduous task. Our boys watch me with sad expressions. Droopy eyes tracking my every movement as if worried I may topple over myself. I might. I feel lost without having Gray here, and I hate that feeling.
Being dependent on a man makes me too much like the woman I’ve been told I should be. Not only from the men who have paraded through my life in the professional setting, but my family, too. I should have picked a less trying specialty, they all say. One that protected my hands and my time. But it was okay to be an OB/GYN and deliver babies because women bring them into the world anyhow.
Anger bubbles in my chest. Mostly at them, but also at myself for allowing Gray to nestle so deeply into my heart that I can’t be without him.
“Gray, you better live,” I whisper to the wet shower wall.