Page 28 of Midnight and Mine

His eyes bore into me,making tingles go off inside me. “I was in a hospital, sitting by a girl named Jess. Her boyfriend had just died in a car accident. Mark.” Tears well up in my eyes. “It felt so real.”

He tucks his lips together, and his jaw trembles, so I squeeze his hand. “Mark was one of our best friends.” A tear falls from his lashes. “It was the worst day of my life until…”

“Until what?”

“Until the day I was called on a search and rescue mission, and it was you.”

Neither of us speak for a few minutes, then he says, “Do you remember Mark or Jessica? Or anything else about that night?”

“I remember collapsing around Jessica and someone rubbing my back. I don’t remember what Mark looked like but based on the memory, I loved him.”

“You did. We all did.” He shakes his head and finally sits back in the chair. “Mark was one of a kind. We’re part of a tight-knit friend group since… well, since forever. You and Mark were always the ones pushing the boundaries. Have you written in your journal?”

I release his hand and pull the journal from under my leg, and he chuckles. “My hiding place. I can’t just let anyone walk into my room and read my deepest thoughts. Wanna see?”

Even in the dark, I see Scott’s eyes light up. I open it up and hand it to him.

“Wynter Wilson. It has a nice ring to it. Do you like your name?”

“I do. I love the double Ws.” My voice is laced with a hint of playfulness.

He nods approvingly.“Your name suits you. It was meant for you and only you,” he mumbles as his fingers roam over the colorful pages.

“That’s as far as I got. No deep secrets yet but thank you for bringing it to me. Doodling helped me relax.”

Scott listens intently as he turns to the next page which has more Wynter Wilson doodles on the back, but the next page says how I love my baby girl. He turns to the next page which is blank and asks, “Do you feel like playing Hangman?”

“Hangman? Uh.. sure. You go first, and I’ll guess letters.”

He pulls the pen from the loop and taps it against the paper twice as he looks to the ceiling. Then he draws on the paper, and each stroke sounds heavy, the pen dragging across the surface as if it’s weighted with the gravity of what to write. Scott must take winning to another level. Well, I’m about to show him.

“How many letters?” I ask.

“Six. Are you ready?”

“Game on. A.”

He fills in two letters, and I raise my hands in a small victory.

“G.”

“No. G”

“S.”

No.

“T.”

“No.”

“No S or T. Damn, this isn’t Wheel of Fortune.”

He smiles, and my stomach does a somersault. I try to press down my feelings for him, knowing it’s wrong to be crushing on my friend when I’m married. But I can’t help but feel what I feel. Scott is the epitome of someone you want by your side.

“You have a head, neck, and body hanging. Four more misses, and you lose.”

“I don’t lose. Move closer; maybe if I see the blanks, I’ll do better.”

---