Spencer had been shot in the neck, just 2mm away from an artery. Blake had stayed with him, to make sure he was okay and to be there if he woke up.

But you, his wife and mother of his daughter, were still at home in Washington, DC. You took the quickest flight to Texas where he was, needing to see him. Even if it was ridiculously expensive at this time of day.

He was laying upon the hospital bed, his neck bandaged and sweat on his forehead. He seemed so peaceful laying like that— unconscious. You couldn’t help but tear up. Your young daughter was in your arms, a concerned look on her face, wondering why her daddy was in a hospitals