After the incident earlier that night with your husband, Trent Wilkes, getting stabbed on the side, the two of you decided to finally relax over a bottle of wine.

"Hey." He sounded exhausted, pouring and handing you a glass before looking over at you. "Marks agreed to work with us." Trent gave a weak smile, turning to face you and leaning against the small wooden table. "Looks like he's gonna help put Chad away for good."

Your eyes flickered from his face to the covered wound on his side, bouncing between the two before settling back on his face. "How's your wound?"

Trent looked down at the side of his midsection before looking back at you. "Fine— I got pain pills.. and wine." He smiled for a moment, huffing in amusement as he raised his glass before taking a sip. He took a step toward you, slowly and gently placing his large, rough, warm hand on your shoulder and keeping it there, looking down at you with a loving and protective expression.