Page 13 of Midnight and Mine

“I’m fine. Come here.” I stick out my palm, wiggling my fingers.

"We’re all relieved you’re awake. You scared us," Drake's words falter, lacking the conviction I crave. Scott watches, arms crossed, grinding his teeth, which would drive me freaking crazy.

Dr. Tutt begins his questions, and the nurse waits with her short but painted fingernails on the keyboard of the computer.

“First, can you tell us what happened?”

Searching my mind for any fragment of a memory, my brows pinch together. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions. What’s your name?”

“Wynter.” Should Itell him that I read it on the board? I’m going with no.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Where do you live?”

“Kissing Springs.”

He’s checking things on his chart. Does that mean I’m answering correctly?

“Good. Are you married?”

I look at my ring, admiring what good taste my husband has. “Yes.”

“To whom?”

“Drake… Wilson?” The whiteboard says Wynter Wilson. “Drake Wilson.”

Dr. Tutt scribbles on his pad, but out of my peripheral vision, I see Scott’s chest rise and his jaw tighten.

“Are you pregnant with a boy or girl?”

My hands instinctively roam over the baby bump that I’m sure was bloating. To stop the room from spinning, I close my eyes, letting the doctor’s words sink in. A flurry of emotions try to suffocate my heart—shocked, perplexed, yet a warmth creeps up my body like I’m being wrapped in a weighted blanket.

“I don’t know. Is my baby okay?”

“Yes. The heartbeat is strong. Who’s your OB/GYN?”

Scott chimes in, “Dr. Breadwell.” Drake agrees then they appear to have a staring competition like a pre-teen.

How can I be carrying a life when I’ve forgotten my own? I realize this tiny heartbeat might be the only fragment of my past I truly possess.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

My brain works frantically for answers until recognition sparks—a lunch with my husband, Drake, returning home with a sandwich. “My husband came home for a late lunch and brought me a sandwich.” I smile, satisfied that I remember something.

"And now she's craving cheese," Drake murmurs hollowly, a private joke lost in translation.

Scott inhales sharply, his chest rising as his jaw clenches. "I can't do this," he erupts, storming out, unable to control his outburst. The list of things I need to remember is longer than my honey-do list, so I can’t worry about Scott. My family is what’s important right now. I want to remember the day I found out I was pregnant, and the day Drake and I married.

Chapter Six

Scott

Fuck, Drake. Why the fuck does she think she’s married to him? I struggle to make sense of the situation as I force my way through the heavy hospital doors and sweep past our friends and family, unable to comprehend why my wife’s mind has decided she’s married to Drake.

---