Page 19 of Midnight and Mine

“I will. I’m going home to shower. Drake will be leaving so you can sit with her while she sleeps.” I press my lips together and call for Beau. “Hey, do you mind driving me home?”

“Whatever you need.”

I’m overwhelmed with exhaustion, far too fatigued to even consider driving. It doesn’t help that Drake held onto my keys, adding another layer to this tangled mess of emotions. Being around him right now feels impossible. Jealousy gnaws its way into my mind, and guilt slowly follows.

Watching him pretend to be her husband, right in front of my eyes, is a stabbing reminder of what I could lose if she doesn’t remember. Every glimpse and gesture between them cause my heart to rip the stitches holding it together.

Wynter doesn’t understand why I’m by her side, and it leaves me aching with loneliness.

Beau clicks his remote and unlocks his SUV. For a few minutes, only the sound of the vehicle lingers in the air. I take out my phone and message Drake.

Meet me at my house before you go to work.

A few minutes later, he responds with a thumb’s up emoji. Thumb’s up. Is he kidding me? I let out a heavy breath.

Beau peeks over his shoulder and says, “Scotty, listen to me. This is awful, but I’m a firm believer that two people who love each other will find their way back to each other. Nessa and I are a prime example.”

I look straight ahead at the barren Bluegrass Parkway. Not a single pair of headlights coming toward us or a pair of taillights in front of us. It’s so desolate. As many times as I’ve traveled this road, I can’t remember thinking of it that way. It’s a major road that links central Kentucky to the western part of the state.

“This is different. Vanessa never forgot you.”

“You waited on her to come to terms with her feelings before. Just give her a chance for those memories to come back.”

I bang my head on the black leather headrest. “And what if she doesn’t?”

“Then make her fall in love with you all over again.”

“Hard to do when she thinks she’s married to our best friend. She’ll think I’m a dick for hitting on her.”

Beau takes the exit ramp toward Kissing Springs, and it’s another five miles to our hometown.

“Plus, she’s already asked why I’m allowed to see her since I’m not family. What the fuck am I going to do?” I mutter to myself, the question echoing off the car windows. Reality gnaws at me, each word tightening the invisible rope around my neck, threatening to choke me.

As we drive, we pass the familiar billboard for Barron’s Bourbon Distillery. Vanessa and Beau own it now, but to me, it’s more than just an advertisement. I’m instantly transported back to high school, when Wynter and I were drinking with Beau and Vanessa, and we decided to explore the deserted distillery.

The air was thick with the sweet aroma of bourbon, and laughter echoed as Wynter danced on the barrels, her zest for life infectious. I climbed up to join her, our laughter mingling, and sharing our first spontaneous kiss as friends with benefits. Beau and Vanessa went to their secret spot, so we continued to explore each other’s mouths. Each kiss built on the next. For me, it was when I knew I would be happy with this arrangement. If it were all she could give me, I would take it.

And I did.

The memory washes over me like a gentle wave, despite my current state of sadness, but it offers a brief respite from the confusion and chaos.

“You’ll do what you’ve always done. Be there by her side no matter what.” He pulls onto our street, into my driveway, and shifts gears down to park.

“None of this makes sense. Why would she be at the gorge by herself? She had photos she was using already. Why would she be there when it was dark and without texting me to let me know?”

“Go take a shower. I’m going to run home and check on Vanessa and the kids. I’ll be back in an hour, and you better be asleep.”

“Thanks, man. I don’t know where I would be without you.”

Each step I take into our empty house is one I take without her hand in mine. I’m weighed down by the ache in my heart. It’s been forty-eight hours, and the loneliness sets in, especially here. Everywhere I look—I see her wiping the counters or writing in her journal.

Her journal. Maybe I should take her journal to her. I’ll take it and ask the doctor. I pause in the hallway on the way to our ensuite, a picture of us, smiling and carefree, captures my attention. I want to be back in that moment as memories flood my mind. We’ve had so many outdoor adventures. And so many nights of dancing at The Brown Jug or over in Whiskey Falls.

I’m reminded of my frustration when I step into the shower, the hard water stings my skin, each droplet striking like tiny needles into my skin. As the water hits me, I cry out, acting as an echo of how I feel on the inside—alone, scared, and furious.

After washing my hair and body, I change the setting to light rain and let it cascade over me, washing away the bubbles spotting my body. Sadness settles in my heart that I haven’t felt since Maverick’s brother Mark died years ago. With the weight of a bourbon barrel sitting on my chest, I crumble to the floor, thinking about Wynter falling at the gorge. The guilt for not being there with her feels like an albatross around my neck.

I wipe the fog off the glass and see a little heart pop up S + W = baby that she wrote on the shower door just two days ago when we had shower sex. Her hands were glued to the glass as she arched her back and stuck her ass out, wiggling it, daring me to enter her. She’s such a tease, and I wouldn’t want her to be any other way.

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