Page 21 of Midnight and Mine

I take out the journal, leafing through to the middle, and write her a love letter.

Wynter,

I’ve been scared plenty of times in my life.

When Jess and Mav made us jump out of the plane before last year’s 5K run in honor of Mark.

When we camped at the gorge, and the coyotes howled all night.

When you stole my paper in our high school creative writing class may have been the scariest. I sat at my desk, holding my breath, trying to act casual, but my heart raced with impending doom. It was just another paper to you, but to me, it held a secret—one I wasn’t ready to share. I didn’t mention you by name, hiding behind metaphors and speaking in generalities, but you and our friends would have untangled the truth.

If you would have read it, it might have been the end of our friends with benefits arrangement. You would have run as fast as you could in the other direction. We never talked about it but when you remember, I’d like to.

But you being in the hospital, unable to remember me, has been the most nerve-wracking experience of my life. Each section of my heart fights for dominance.

Hope.

Fear.

Love.

Sadness.

Even if you never remember me, know that I will always love you.

Scott

Closing the journal, I stick the pen in the loop and let quiet memories play in my head.

Wynter is resting well, as Nancy peeks in and gives me a thumbs up, giving me a glimmer of hope. They said the more rest she gets undisturbed, the faster her concussion will heal.

I take her small palmin my hands and kiss it. “I love you, babe,” I mumble. Laying my head on our hands, I pray for her health, our baby’s health, and for her memory to return.

My eyes are so tired, and my brain is utterly drained. Before I realize it, I’ve dozed off to sleep for hours right by her side, where I was always meant to be.

Mild activity and the first steaks of daylight stream through the blinds. The nurse changes her IV bag, and Wynter eventually moves her head from left to right, waking up.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” I say as her eyes open.

A sweet, appreciative smile glides across her face, but then a little line appears between the bridge of her nose. It’s obvious she’s confused as to why I would say that. It seems out of line since she thinks she’s married to Drake and not me. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can hold that in. If she doesn’t remember, I’m going on my own to help her remember.

What if she doesn’t ever remember? I pull my lips into my mouth, considering the possibility. What would Wynter do?

She would say, “I love you, baby. I’m your wife, and you fucking love me.” But I’ve always followed doctors’ orders because I know what happens when you don’t.

“Hey,” she responds weakly.

I let go of her hand to grab a cup of water, then raise her bed so she can drink it.

“Where’s Drake? He told me he would be here for the obstetrician visit.”

It takes every bit of self-control I have not to tell her that he’s just a friend. Instead, I say, “He should behere soon. He just got off work.”

She lifts her chin, accepting the answer.

“I brought you something.”

“You did?”

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