When I’d gone back inside, I’d mentioned it to Bentley, and he’d explained that Olivia had been dating. A lot. He also said that she was meeting these guys online. He said that he’d been worried about her and that it would actually make him feel a lot better if I were next door, just so I could keep an eye on things, and would be close if she needed anything.
Logically, I knew that she was a grown woman who didn’t need protection. Academically, I knew that she didn’t need me moving next door to her to keep her safe. But my brain wasn’t the one calling the shots right now.
My career had been built on my gut instinct. When I was on the back of a bull there was no time to think. I had to trust myself. It was something that I had always done and always regretted when I didn’t.
For example, the ride that cost me my career would never have happened if I’d trusted my gut. I’d pulled a muscle in my shoulder earlier in the week and even though I’d been cleared to return to “normal activity,” I’d known that it was too soon to get on the back of a two-thousand-pound beast. Especially Punisher. His wrecks were legendary. But I’d allowed the promise of another win and the threat of a chink in my reputation of never missing an event to cloud my judgment.
Up until the last second, before the gate opened, my gut had been telling me to stop. I had ignored it and given the nod to open the chute. Two painful surgeries, countless hours of PT, and a career down the drain later, I was paying the price for it.
The problem with this situation was that my gut was telling me this was the right thing to do. It was my head that was trying to talk me out of it. What good could come from this living situation, besides the obvious: that I didn’t want to be a grown man who was moving back in with his parents?
My phone rang and when I looked down, I saw that it was Kurt and I thought about not answering. I knew that I should. But there was something stopping me.
Before the incident, I’d always faced things head-on. Well, except for one glaring exception. I’d never dealt with my feelings for Olivia. But other than that, I’d never put things off or tried to avoid things. Even if they were uncomfortable. Even if there was conflict. I handled my shit.
But ever since I woke up in that hospital bed, something had shifted in me. At first, I figured it was just because all of my focus and energy had been devoted to walking again. I’d ignored all other aspects of my life. Now that I’d achieved that, I really didn’t have any excuse for dodging phone calls.
“Fuck it.”
“Yeah,” I answered. It wasn’t my friendliest greeting but since I’d wanted to answer by asking, “What the fuck do you want?” I figured it was a happy compromise.
“You’re in Wishing Well.”
Kurt didn’t sound like he was asking a question, so I remained silent. I had no idea how he knew where I was, but it wasn’t like I was trying to keep it a secret.
“How long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you planning on telling me where you were?”
“It looks like I didn’t have to.” It irritated me that he knew now. I’d always been a private person.
“I only know because your mom posted pictures of you on Instagram at some event.”
Great.
“When are you coming back?”
I looked at the duplex and thought about Olivia coming home alone. “I don’t know.”
“What about your physical therapy?”
“I’m fine.”
“I spoke to Dr. Leach. He said that you are at about sixty percent of your potential recovery. But, if you stop treatment, your progress won’t just stall, you actually have a very good chance of regressing. Which you know can happen anyway, even if you do everything you’re supposed to. You are walking now, but if you don’t keep up with your sessions, it increases the chances of your condition deteriorating. If that happens, the results could end up being irreversible.”
My jaw clenched and I closed my eyes as my head fell back against the headrest. I didn’t want to go to anymore PT sessions. Dr. Leach had told me the same statistic, but I’d figured that sixty percent was fine. If there was no way that I’d ever be able to ride again, what was the point of continuing them? That had been my thinking. But I must have blocked out the part about losing the mobility that I’d gained.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Kurt continued, “If you’re going to be there indefinitely, I’ll find someone in the area and set it up. Also, I got a call from the pharmacy that you didn’t pick up your last refill.”
“I told you, I hate that shit.” I’d been on the meds when it was absolutely necessary but now, I could handle it. And I’d seen what getting addicted to pain killers could do in my sport. They were addictive. I’d seen opioids ruin some of my friends’ and colleagues’ lives. There’d even been bull riders that had ended up taking heroin and overdosing. I wasn’t going out like that. Not that I had much of a life left, but I’d be damned if anything was going to have control over me.
It was probably why my feelings for Olivia had scared the shit out of me.
I thought I heard Kurt mumble something about me a being a stubborn SOB before he sighed, “Whatever, but Reed, one more thing.”
“What?” I snapped, more than ready for this conversation to be over.
“When I call, answer your fucking phone.”
With that not-so-friendly instruction, he hung up. Part of me felt like an asshole for ignoring him, but another part of me didn’t feel anything at all. It was strange that I could feel so numb, and so angry, and in so much pain, and hopeless, and apathetic all at the same time.
Dr. Leach had suggested I go talk to someone. He’d said that with all the changes that my body was going through it was normal for my brain to need help as well. It was true, I didn’t feel like myself, but why in the hell would I? I wasn’t myself.
Although, now that rodeoing had been taken away from me, I wasn’t even sure who I was. So how could I know if I felt like myself?
Headlights shone behind me, bouncing off my rearview mirror. For a split second, I thought that it might be Olivia coming home from her date.
What would she think about me being parked here?
Would she think I was stalking her?
Would I care if she did? At least I’d know if she walked in alone or invited the stranger in.
And what if she did? What was I supposed to do with that information? Nothing. I couldn’t do jack shit with that information.
When the truck that I recognized as Bentley’s drove around me and into the driveway, I knew that the time to mull over my decision had expired. This was a bad idea. Nothing good could come from me living next door to Olivia. It would be pure torture. I’d had enough of that the last few months.
I opened the door and shifted so my feet were on my running board. As soon as I put weight on my legs, my back screamed with pain. Three days of driving hadn’t done me any favors. If I was going to be in town for a while, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to continue my treatments here. I held my breath as I lowered one foot and then the other down onto the pavement. I used the door for balance and support and noticed that I was holding on so tight my knuckles were white.