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.
