Page 40 of Midnight and Mine

Drake walks past Scott and touches me on the shoulder. I’m left without answers, and Scott looks like he could tear a grizzly bear apart with nothing but his hands.

With a deep breath to brace against the pain of my broken leg and bruised ribs, I move slowly around the couch. Each step sends an unfriendly reminder of the accident and the pain that it caused.

Stopping in front of Scott, I demand, “I’m going to let you cool off a minute, but then you’re telling me everything I want to know, regardless of what the doctors believe is the right course of action. This is my life. Mine.”

Chapter Seventeen

Scott

Guilt gnaws at me for ignoring the boundaries of the doctor’s orders, but when Beau and his team find Wynter’s phone, I’m not prepared for what I read in her texts.

Drake: Please don’t be upset.

Drake: I had to tell you. I couldn’t go on pretending that I’m not in love with you.

Drake: Pick up.

Drake: Are you going to tell Scott? I deserve it if you do.

Drake: Please, Wynter, call me back. Text me something.

Drake: Wynter, please. I’ve driven all around town to find you. Where are you?

Drake: I love you. I know you don’t love me back, but please just tell me you’re safe.

Drake: I just need to know you and the baby are safe. I just drove by the house, and you’re not there. You’re not at Jessica or Vanessa’s. I even drove to the distillery.

Drake: I get it. You hate me.

Wynter: I don’t hate you. I love you like a brother. Please just stay away for a while. I have to wrap my head around this and figure out how to tell Scott without him killing you.

Drake: If he did, I would deserve it.

Damn right he would deserve it.

Wynter opens the fridge, wincing in pain. I’m such an ass for putting my own feelings before her health and safety. When I saw Drake here, I hadn’t had time to digest the information, and I blew up when I should have quietly asked him to talk outside. But Wynter’s right; this is her life, and she deserves to know that her attraction to me isn’t a betrayal of her marriage vows—they are in fact—her marriage vows. We promised to love in sickness and in health, and it feels like she loves me despite not remembering me or our life together.

“I’ll get it for you.”

She leans against the counter, breathless but with determination written all over her face. “Can you help me to the porch swing?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I pick her up, carry her outside, and ease her down against my body, and my dick takes notice. We hesitate before she sits on the swing. I go back inside and retrieve her drink, then set it on the wicker table next to the porch swing.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you. I shouldn’t have come in with guns blazing.”

“God, Scott. I don’t care that you expressed emotion. What I need to know if you are Drake’s brother?”

My head pulls back. “No, why?”

“Are you my husband?” she asks as her lips flatline, and she plays with her wedding ring, twisting and turning. It’s something she does when she isn’t sure of the outcome.

My lids fall shut and open again. “Yes.” I can’t deny that I’m relieved of this burden. I’ve never, not one time, lied to my wife until the accident. I take my wedding ring off and hold it out. “You had it engraved.”

She removes it from between my pinched fingers and holds it close to her eyes.

“Only you.”

Her chest inflates, and she chokes on her breath as her eyes fill with tears. “So, everything I feel is real?”

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