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"Mal…"
"Sixty seconds," I remind her.
She shakes her head. "Mal… That's…"
"Your name."
"It is?"
I nod.
She drags her fingertips over my chest, tracing the outlines of the tattoo. It's only a day old. It's still sore. But it's fucking perfect—a broken heart being stitched together, her name on the needle.
"That's forever."
"Yeah."
"What if I tell you to get lost? That I don't forgive you for hurting me?"
"You'll still be the person who stitched my heart back together."
"Then tore it apart?"
"Yeah."
She traces the lines again and again. Slowly, her eyes meet mine. "Mal, I can't do this again. Not if you're going to run off the next time you get scared."
"I know. I fucking hate that I hurt you, Lacey. It's been eating me up inside. But knowing that you exist and you're okay… You've been my silver lining since everything with Mom started." I slide my arms around her waist. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get this figured out. I love you, and that means I'm handing you my heart, and that means you have the power to destroy me."
"I won't."
"I know. But I get it now. All that warmth in my chest, that feeling lighting up my entire body—that's love. It always comes with giving someone the power to tear you in half. It means you trust them not to."
She blinks back a tear. "Mal…"
"You're crying, baby."
She shakes her head.
I reach up and wipe a tear from her eye. "You are."
"I'm happy."
I wipe another tear from her eye. "I love you so much, Lace
y."
"I love you too." She stares back at me. "You're not scared anymore?"
"I'm terrified. But I'm getting there."
She nods. "You promise you won't run off?"
"Yeah."
"Swear on something."
"I swear on everything."
