Page 29 of Midnight and Mine

As he scoots as close as he can, I ask, “Can you put the bedrail down, so I can see the paper clearer?”

“Sure, do you want me to turn on the lights?”

“No.” He doesn’t need to know that I’m swooning over the man who has been by my side nearly every minute I’ve been awake. He slumps a little, so his shoulder presses next to mine. Butterflies circle, and I have to close my eyes and take a soothing breath.

I stare at the six blanks with two A’s filled in, wanting to solve the mystery and show my rescue hottie that I’m smart. I guess another letter “R,” and a faint smile flickers on his lips as he drags the pen over the paper. There’s warmth in his eyes and in his touch. His forearms are roped and with each sweep of the pen, his muscles flex.

Despite having no memory of him, this moment feels achingly familiar—a string tying me to my past.

“E.”

Scott looks at me knowingly as he fills the letter e into the space before the letters r and a.

“Camera,” I proclaim.

“Shoot. I wanted to hang you. Another?”

“Yeah, but I get to decide the word and draw.”

Since the accident, I haven’t felt normal until this very moment in time. It’s so easy with Scott to just be a person. Not a wife or a mom-to-be. As he hands me the journal,his long fingers skim mine, and a jolt of electricity shocks me. “Ouch. Are you packing lithium batteries?” I joke.

“I guess we have chemistry,” he says, letting his eyes linger on my mouth. “Try to hang me.”

I tap the pen to my lips as I think of a good word. I don’t know why but the phrasehang glidingpops into my mind. Drawing the lines, I say, “Two words, eleven letters.”

He guesses the A, N, and the I, then misses RSTBD and E.

“You’ve only got one leg left, Scott. Choose your letter carefully,” I tease, half-flirting, and as much as I should feel ashamed, I really don’t. I know I can’t be that person who would cheat.

“Well, technically if you want to be anatomically correct, I have…”

“Stop.”

We both laugh so loud; Nurse Nancy comes in to see what we’re doing. She peeks her head around and says, “What’s so funny?” I think it’s rhetorical, and we don’t want to explain. “Whatever it is, keep it up. Laughter heals people. I’ve seen it.”

I give her a one-hand salute, and she leaves us alone.

Scott guesses, “G?”

“Of course, there’s a G. Why didn’t you guess it before?”

“There should be two, Hang Gliding,” he gloats, but it’s the smile and the flirtatious tone that has me feeling like warm jelly inside.

I ask, “Best of three?”

“Okay, my turn to draw.”

With the guardrails down, we’re sitting so close, touching, and I like it. If it were him in the hospital bed, andI wasn’t married, I’d crawl up in the bed with him. He grasps the pen, and I stare at the blank spaces that form the new Hangman puzzle. He offers me a teasing smirk. “If you can guess this phrase without any letters, I’ll get you Bojangles again.”

“Can I have a hint? Like a movie, song, person, place, or thing?”

“It’s a song.” His eyes, kind, and reassuring, urge me to take a guess.

“Four. Two. Three. Hmmm. Love is Big.”

The sound that filters out his throat causes me to swallow hard. His laughter is like a beacon calling me home. I wish I knew why. I know we’ve been friends for a long time and that we have a big friend group.

“Do you know a song called Love is Big?” he continues to chuckle.

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