Page 52 of Your Heart & Mine

Overthenexthours,Wyck's parents and Harper shared stories from their childhood and their lives since leaving Carrington Ridge. Though he called often, Wyck had rarely ventured back to the town he'd grown up in. He'd even moved Marjorie and Hank to a new home overlooking the New River several years ago. Hearing these missing pieces, Harper felt even closer to the complex man she loved.

Late that night after Wyck's parents reluctantly went to the hotel to rest, Harper dozed off still holding his hand. Around dawn, she gradually awoke to the feeling of fingers lightly brushing her hair. Disoriented, her eyes flew open.

Wyck was watching her, his grey eyes finally open but still dulled with pain and medication. Harper jolted upright. "Wyck! You...you're awake!" He gave a faint, lopsided smile around the oxygen mask that had lived on his face since they had taken him off the ventilator. His fingers continued weakly combing through the length of her hair.

Tears of awe and relief flooded Harper's eyes. She hit the call button repeatedly, needing the doctors to know the miraculous news. Still afraid to move him much, she cradled his cheek tenderly. "Welcome back," she whispered, her heart ready to burst through her chest with relief.

"Hey." His voice was raspy and weak, but Harper had never heard anything so sweet.

The weeks after Wyck was moved from the ICU passed in a blur of physical and occupational therapy sessions as he worked doggedly to regain strength and mobility. Though every incremental gain came through agony, Wyck refused to be deterred. He was going to walk again, no matter how long or painful the road.

But the brain injury continued plaguing him in subtler ways. Memory gaps left him endlessly frustrated, while mood swings and temper flare-ups tested Harper's patience. Some days the damage seemed to overwhelm him and she knew he was worried about how long Davis and the board could continue to overlook his deficits.

Harper arrived one gloomy afternoon to find Wyck sitting hunched in a wheelchair facing the window, shoulders rigid with tension. She ignored his obvious ire and breezed over dropping a kiss on his temple.

"Hey you. I come bearing real clothes for your big escape tomorrow!" She held up a duffel bag triumphantly.

Wyck flinched away from her kiss, expression stormy. "I told you I don't need an escort home. Davis is in town. He's taking me home." His tone held an edge that made Harper brace herself.

She bit back a sigh, keeping her own voice light. "And miss seeing that handsome face when you walk through the front door? Not a chance."

Wyck whipped the wheelchair around, eyes hard. "Dammit Harper, I don't need you babying me! I can handle things myself."

His harsh words slammed into her, but she tried to ignore the hurt. "I know that," she soothed. "I only want to support you, not take over."

"Well, I don't need yoursupporteither," Wyck growled. "So just back the hell off."

He wheeled away before seeing her stricken expression. Harper dropped into a chair as she heard the bathroom door slam, tears pricking her eyes. She knew his anger sprang from helplessness and pain, but his constant pushing away left her depleted.

Was he trying to convince her - or himself - that he didn't need anyone? She swiped at her cheeks impatiently. After fighting through her fear and distrust, was it too late to convince him of her love? No, she decided. Wyck could try all he wanted to drive her off, but she wasn't going anywhere. She refused to give up that easily now that her heart knew what she stood to lose.

True to his word, Davis showed up the next morning driving Wyck's Range Rover. Wyck avoided Harper's concerned gaze, jaw clenched, as an orderly helped load him into the vehicle.

Davis' lips turned up in a wry smile. "Hey, Harper. Good to see you."

"You too, Davis. This wasn't really necessary, though. I told him I could take him home."

Shrugging, Davis's eyes glanced over at his friend slowly making his way into the front seat. "He called, so…"

Harper returned his smile as she opened the back door to Wyck's vehicle. "No worries. Hope you don't mind another passenger."

Davis' eyes widened a bit and his gaze flicked to Wyck's form in the passenger seat. His friend sat stiffly staring straight ahead. "Uh, sure. No problem."

Clicking her seatbelt, Harper prepared for the barrage of complaint from the front seat but she refused to be deterred. He was not going to get rid of her so easily. Harper met Davis' eyes in the rear view mirror as he climbed into the drivers' seat and started the engine. Looks like the blow up they expected was going to be averted this time.

The ride passed in uncomfortable silence. Pulling up to Wyck's house, Harper's was relieved to see the ramp and railing freshly built to accommodate his wheelchair. At least he hadn't rejected other's offers of help while he was busy pushing her away.

Once inside, Wyck wordlessly wheeled down the hall to his office. Taking the hint, Harper carried his things to the master suite then busied herself cleaning the kitchen. She kept alert for signs he needed assistance, but he stubbornly stayed sequestered away.

Late afternoon, she peeked in to find him slumped over his desk asleep, computer screen still glowing. Her heart clenched. Just navigating the short distance had clearly exhausted him. But at least he couldn't fight her help while unconscious.

She longed to move him to the big bed and curl up beside him comforting herself with his warmth but instead she retreated to the living room granting him solitude.

Over the following week, they fell into an uneasy rhythm. Harper slept in the small guest room but would get up early to make breakfast, which Wyck would pick at silently before sequestering himself in the office again, only coming out for meals or the visiting nurses and therapists. She learned to brace for the stormy scowls and biting remarks he lobbed to push her away.

But she persisted gently, refusing to be driven off. Late one night after a particularly bad episode of tremors and searing pain left Wyck drained, he finally broke down.

"Why do you stay when I'm so awful to you?" he rasped as she held him, his weakened body shaking with sobs.

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