Page 121 of My Unfinished Heart

I look at her and the tense lines around her mouth. She’s relaxing into this about as well as I am. “Yeah?”

“You’re a tattoo artist,” Eliza says with some disdain.

West speaks up. “Do you think the first time your mom ever drew anything she did it with a tattoo needle?” He’s not being a dick. The kindness and patience wrapping around his words is like nothing I’ve ever heard come out of him. “Who do you think painted the mural in your room?”

Eliza rolls her eyes. “I just meant… Never mind.”

“I could never be a tattoo artist. It must take an unbelievable amount of confidence,” I say.

Joey gives me a rueful glance. “It pays the bills. So maybe a little more desperation than confidence.”

Tristan says, “I have one tattoo and it’s tiny, but the guy who tattooed me was an artist as well. I didn’t realize artistic experience wasn’t a requirement.”

“I know, right?” Joey says. “Shocked the hell out of me, too. But yeah. Just a steady hand and big balls.”

“Wait,” Eliza says. “So you don’t have to know how to draw to tattoo somebody? Like permanently?”

Joey shakes her head. “These days you just need a working knowledge of Canva.”

Eliza seems to file this knowledge away before looking at me and saying. “I’d want a real artist.”

“Like Momma,” Kate says.

“Or Archer,” Eliza replies.

Joey laughs. Tristan sends me a small smile that seems to say, “Told you.”

West might as well still be in prison for all I know about him and what’s going on in his life. He’s moved on, and so have I. Tristan distracted me from it, but right now, his absence from my life hurts like a missing limb.

“How did you two meet?” Joey asks Tristan.

Tristan smiles. “Well, I was seven⁠—”

I almost choke on my mashed potatoes. West is in a similar predicament as he coughs again, reaching for his water.

“I’m seven!” Kate says.

“You met when you were seven?” Eliza asks, and she sounds really pissed.

“I was seven,” Tristan specifies. “He was…a little older. His brother’s been my best friend since Kindergarten.”

“You’ve been dating since you were seven?” Kate asks.

“We didn’t ask how long they’d been dating, sweetie. We asked how they met,” Joey reminds her.

“You met him when he was seven?” West asks. They’re the first words he’s spoken directly to me.

“Apparently.”

Joey says, “I had no idea you’d known each other so long.”

“Neither did I,” West adds quietly.

“Well, like I said—we didn’t really know each other. It’s just when we met. Sort of. I guess technically we didn’t actually meet meet until about four years ago.” Tristan says, not really looking at West.

Joey turns to me, and I look into her vivid blue eyes. She says, “And now we’re all together. That’s what counts, right?”

I look over at West, and without saying a word, I forgive him. He can thank his girlfriend for that.