Page 9 of Midnight and Mine

Jess rubs my back. I know this brings up bad memories for her especially since Mark died in this very hospital. It’s been almost five years since he passed away. Eventually, she found happiness and comfort with Mark’s older brother Maverick. “We’re here for you, like you all were there for me. Wynter’s tough as nails and too feisty to let a fall stop her.”

I pull her into a hug.“I’m sorry. I just needed all of you. I’m so fucking scared.”

Major asks, “How’s the baby?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Henry said they were doing an ultrasound.”

Just as I finish my sentence, the nice nurse comes through the double doors. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson.”

My heart drops, and I can’t catch my breath. It’s never good when they apologize to start their sentences. Beau and Maverick grab my arms to keep me standing.

“No, Wynter is alive. I’m sorry it took so long. Baby Wilson’s heartbeat is strong, and the heart rate is within normal range.”

“Thank God,” our friends say in unison, and I sigh in relief.

“I appreciate you keeping your word. Can I see Wynter?”

“She’ll be back in her room in an hour. They’ve set her leg and are casting it now. She had to have stitches in several places. When she’s back in her room, only one person at a time and only family until she’s awake.”

“When will that be?”

“That’s up to the doctor. We’ll do a CT scan after she’s had time to rest. Likely around eight in the morning. I’ll let you know when you can go back.”

“Thanks.”

It’s already two in the morning. Her parents wrap their arms around me as tears flow down my cheeks. They’ve known me my entire life. Everyone here has except Axel. He’s older than the rest of us by a decade, but Ali came into our group, and he followed when they married.

Wynter’s dad slaps my back. “My baby girl will fight. She has you and your baby girl.”

I nod, sucking up the tears that have fallen between my lips.

Beau, Vanessa, and Ali go to the twenty-four-hour snack shop and grab coffee for everyone. Then we all sit and wait. Finally, I ask, “Did anyone speak to Wynter today? Or see her?”

The group shakes their heads no, but Drake says, “I went by and brought her a sandwich. Since when does she like cheese?”

Small chuckles filter through the waiting room. “Since a couple of weeks ago. She can’t get enough and can’t decide which type she wants, so I just bought the grocery store out of cheddar, gouda, and Colby cheese.”

“Now she knows what she’s been missing. She would take the mozzarella off the pizza. Who does that?” Vanessa asks.

A collective answer, “Wynter.” Remembering that tidbit lightens the room momentarily, and I don’t know what I’d do without my friends.

The nurse returns and explains, “One person can go in. Immediate family only until she wakes up. And then it will be the doctor’s decision.”

Her parents say, “You go. Text us from her room.”

As I walk through the sterile corridor, the nurse extends her arm. “She’ll be in ICU until she wakes up.”

I push the door open, and I’m not prepared for what I see. Wynter looks frail like she’s been abused. Bruises litter her arms and face. I pull back the sheet, exposing her leg, and it’s covered in purple and blue bruises as wellas a gash that’s been sewn up about four inches long.

In the midnight shadows of the gorge, I didn’t realize how badly her body was battered and shattered. I pull the vinyl recliner next to the bed and hold her hand.

I kiss it.

“Come back to me. I promise I’ll never let anything else happen to you. Be strong for our baby girl. We need you.” Then a wave of anger, frustration and sadness racks my body and I completely break down, sobbing.

The doctor comes in after a couple of hours, explaining that he’s given her medicine, so she’ll sleep until morning. They’ll do the CT scan and then decide whether to give her more. Knowing they’ve given her something, so she won’t wake up, I leave and let her parents visit her. One at a time. All our friends are still in the waiting room. Jess puts her arm around me and lays her head on my shoulder. “She always has to be the center of attention.”

“Yep. It’s what I love about her. Her energy is infectious, and it drew me to her way before I was willing to admit. Kindergarten maybe.”

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