Page 71 of Midnight Ink

“You sure?”

“I got it. You go. I’ll shower after.”

He nods, getting up, and I slip on my pants and a fresh T-shirt and head downstairs. I’m not sure how many rooms are here but I feel terrible for Xia and Alexander. Owning a business is hard work. I wish there was something we could do.

“Good morning. I’m so sorry to wake you both up, but I know how important this is.” She smiles brightly. “I’m so happy his bag was found.”

“No, thank you for telling us. He will be happy.”

“So, what are we doing today? Any fun plans?” Her warm smile feels like a hug. I like this place. I know this wasn’t the trip we planned, but I do like it here. I like them.

“Xia,” Alexander chides her.

She shoos him away and waits for me to answer. “Um, I don’t know. It’s raining again so probably just hanging out.”

“You know there’s a place close by. A rage room,” he says.

“What?”

“We go sometimes and take Violet. It’s a lot of fun. Great stress relief. It could be good for Ian. Let out some of his frustrations. It’s called a rage room,” Xia explains.

“She’s a beast inside those rooms.” Alexander smiles at his wife. “It’s kind of scary.” She slaps his arm playfully. “It is a lot of fun, though.”

“A rage room?”

“It’s not too expensive either. They have a splatter-paint room, but that one’s more pricey,” she says. “And less violent.”

“It’s indoors and only about ten minutes from here,” Alexander adds.

“Thank you, that sounds nice. I’ll look into it.”

“Will you both be here for dinner? I can take requests if there’s something you’d both like.” Alexander doesn’t chide her this time. Instead, he watches her, and knowing now what this place means to them both and how much she means to him, I understand him a bit better. He just wants his wife to be happy.

And she wants to have people here again.

“Uh, yeah, we’ll be here. Anything’s fine, though. We’re not picky.”

“No seafood.” She smiles. “Dinner at six, then?”

“Perfect.” I thank her again and head up the stairs. When I open the door Ian’s wrapped in a towel. “Mm, perfect timing.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

I place the bag gently on the bed. He stares at it. Then laughs.

And we’ve gone manic. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing. Just . . . my brain.” He shakes his head. “I was thinking, what if I opened it and ashes went everywhere?” I blink at him. “Then I pictured shaking ashes out of all my clothes.” He laughs to himself. “He’d think that was hilarious,” Ian adds. “Sorry.”

He opens the bag and the urn is still safe, wrapped in his sleep pants. “He loved the ocean.” He holds the urn, smoothing his thumbs over it. “He used to pretend the lake near us was the ocean.” He tells me about the shop. The hours. The distance. Guilt bleeds through every sentence.

“Does he have family still there?”

He shakes his head. “His mom moved. I’m not sure where. She hates me,” he admits. “After he died, she blamed me.”

“How? You weren’t even driving.”

“She told me if I’d been sober, I could have driven, but that wouldn’t have mattered. None of it matters. It was Maddox’s jeep, and no one drove his jeep. He worked so hard for the things he had and cherished what he worked for. It’s one of those things, right? If one second of that night was done differently, everything could have changed. It’s a sick game of what-if that makes your brain hurt. Every day you’re making all these little decisions, but you never know where those decisions are going to lead you. Are you making the right ones or are you stepping closer to doom? One day you’re helping your boyfriend with his shop, and then you go to a party. Next thing you know, a bunch of people you know are dead.” He swallows.

And sometimes you wake up one day and decide to finally get a tattoo, and that day changes your life forever.