Николас Спаркс - The Longest Ride

She swallowed, unable to finish. Luke, too, had watched the video once, six months after his ride. Back when he’d sworn he’d never ride again. Back when he’d felt lucky simply to have survived.

“You should have died, but you didn’t,” Sophia stated. “You were given a second chance. Somehow, it was ordained that you should have the chance to live a normal life. And no matter what you say, I’ll never understand why you’d want to risk that. It doesn’t make sense to me. I told you once that I’d thought about killing myself but that I never really meant it. I knew I’d never go through with it. But you… it’s like you want to do it. And you’ll keep going until you succeed.”

“I don’t want to die,” he insisted.

“Then don’t ride,” she said. “Because if you do, then I can’t be part of your life. I’m not going to be able to pretend you’re not trying to kill yourself. Because I’d feel like I was condoning it somehow. I just can’t do that.”

Luke could feel his throat close up, making it difficult to speak. “Are you saying you don’t want to see me anymore?”

With his question, Sophia thought again about how much the tension had drained her, and she realized there were no tears left. “I love you, Luke. But I can’t be part of this. I can’t spend every minute that I’m with you wondering whether you’ll live through the weekend. And I can’t bear to imagine what it’s going to be like if you don’t.”

“So it’s over?”

“Yes,” she said. “If you continue to ride, it’s over.”

The following day, Luke sat at his kitchen table, truck keys on the table. It was Friday afternoon, and if he left in the next few minutes, he’d reach the motel before midnight. His truck was already loaded with the gear he needed.

His head still ached a little, but the real ache he felt was when he thought about Sophia. He wasn’t looking forward to the drive or to the event; more than anything, he wanted to spend the weekend with Sophia. He wanted an excuse not to go. He wanted to take her horseback riding on the ranch, envelop her in his arms as they sat in front of the fire.

Earlier, he’d seen his mom, but their interaction remained strained. Like Sophia, she didn’t want to talk to him. When work made it necessary to speak to him, her anger was palpable. He could feel the weight of her worries – about him, about the ranch. About the future.

Reaching for the keys, he heaved himself out of the chair and started toward his truck, wondering if he’d be able to drive it back home.

26

Sophia

“I thought you might be coming.” Linda stood in the doorway of the farmhouse, her expression as weary and anxious as Sophia’s own.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Sophia said. It was Saturday night, and they both knew that the man they adored would be in the ring tonight, risking his life, perhaps at this very moment.

Linda waved her in and motioned for her to sit at the kitchen table. “Would you like a cup of hot cocoa?” she asked. “I was just about to make myself one.” Sophia nodded, unable to say anything and noticing Linda’s cell phone lying on the table. Linda must have noticed Sophia staring at it.

“He texts me when he’s finished,” Linda said, busying herself at the stove. “He’s always done that. Well, actually, he used to call. He’d tell me how well he did, good or bad, and we’d talk for a while. But now he…” She shook her head. “He just texts to tell me that he’s okay. And I can’t do anything but sit here while I wait for it. Meanwhile, of course, time just slows down. Right now, I feel like I’ve been awake for a week. But even when I hear from him, I won’t be able to sleep. Because I worry that even though he says he’s okay, he’s done something to further damage his brain.”

Sophia picked at the table with her fingernail. “He said he was in the ICU after the accident.”

“He was clinically dead when he arrived at the hospital,” Linda said, stirring the heating milk slowly. “Even after they revived him, no one thought he’d survive. The back of his skull was just… shattered. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time. I didn’t get there until the following day, and when they brought me in to see him, I didn’t even recognize him. The impact broke his nose and crushed his eye socket and his cheekbone – his face was swollen and just… wrecked. They couldn’t do anything about it because of the other damage. His head was wrapped up and he was bolted down so he couldn’t move at all.” Linda took her time pouring the hot milk into the mugs, then spooned in the cocoa. “He didn’t open his eyes for almost a week, and a few days after that, they had to rush him back into surgery. He ended up spending almost a month in the ICU.”

Sophia accepted a mug from Linda and took a tentative sip. “He said he has a plate.”

“He does,” she said. “A small one. But the doctor said the bones in his skull might never heal completely because some of the pieces just couldn’t be salvaged. He said that it’s like a stained glass window back there, everything barely holding together. I’m sure it’s better now than it was even last summer, and he’s always been a strong rider, but…” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. Instead, she shook her head.

“After he was released from the ICU and they thought he could handle the trip, he was transported to Duke University Hospital. By then, I felt like we’d put the worst behind us, because I knew he’d survive, maybe even recover fully.” She sighed. “And then the bills started coming in, and I was looking at another three months at Duke, just to allow his body to heal, and all the reconstructive surgery on his face. Then, of course, he needed lots of rehab…”

“He told me about the ranch,” Sophia said softly.

“I know,” she said. “It’s how he justifies what he’s doing.”

“It still doesn’t justify it.”

“No,” Linda said. “It doesn’t.”

“Do you think he’s okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tapping the phone. “I never know until he texts.”

The next two hours passed in slow motion, elongated minutes stretching into eternity. Linda served up some slices of pie, but neither of them was hungry. Instead, they picked at the slices, waiting.

And waiting.

Somehow, Sophia thought that being here with Linda would reduce her anxiety, but if anything, she’d begun to feel worse. Seeing the video had been bad enough, but hearing about his injuries in detail made her almost nauseated.

Luke was going to die.

In her mind, there was no question about it. He would fall, the bull would swing his head the wrong way again. Or Luke would ride but the bull would go after him as he was exiting the arena…

He had no chance of survival, not if he kept riding. It was only a matter of time.

She stayed lost in these thoughts until finally Linda’s phone vibrated on the table.

Linda lunged for it and read the message. Her shoulders suddenly relaxed and she let out a long breath. After sliding the phone to Sophia, she covered her face with her hands.

Sophia glanced at the words: I’m OK and on my way home.

27

Luke

The fact that he didn’t win in Macon wasn’t a reflection of how well he rode, but rather a function of the quality of the bulls. The bulls’ performances made up half of every score, after all, meaning that every event was left somewhat in the hands of the gods.

His first bull was pretty much a flat spinner. Luke held on and the ride was no doubt exciting to the crowd, but when the scores came up, he found himself in ninth place. The second bull wasn’t much better, but at least he managed to hold on while others ranked above him had been thrown, and he moved up to sixth. In the short go, he drew a decent bull, and he’d hopped off with a score good enough to move him into fourth place. It wasn’t a stellar competition, but it was enough for him to retain, even extend, his lead in the overall points standings.