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My cheeks blushed as I thought about swimming and pressuring Hawk to pop my cherry.
“Oh, now comes the good part,” Roxie, my tattoo artist, teased, noticing my heated cheeks.
“I might’ve come on to my brother’s best friend,” I admitted, dropping my eyes.
The three people in attendance hooted and hollered, making me laugh and feel accepted. Giggling, I couldn’t ignore how lighter I felt from the simple act of engaging with others.
“All done,” Roxie said.
I looked down, tilting my head as I tried to see it.
“It’s not gonna look pretty for a few days,” she said, seeing my face. After some instructions on how to care for it and to avoid any more swimming for a month, I was sent on my way with several well wishes and hugs.
Feeling like a new woman, I strutted out of the tattoo shop in my overpriced wedding dress, intent on continuing my streak of decision-making.
Smacking into a well-dressed woman around the corner instantly threw it all into question as everything tilted on its axis.
“Mom?!”
“Blake! There you are,” she shrieked, wrapping her arms around me like I’d been kidnapped for over forty-eight hours, and the police had told her to give up hope.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I asked into her neck where I was currently being suffocated.
“What am I doing here? I think the better question is, what are you doing here?” She pulled back, her eyes wide with panic as her words tumbled over one another. “You run away from your wedding, go radio silent, and then I get a ping on your card that you’re at a tattoo shop, of all places! I swore to your father that it couldn’t be you. No, not our Blake. She wouldn’t risk her health and well-being for a tattoo. No, someone must’ve stolen her card and was using it.”
She shook her head back and forth as she continued to monologue her dramatization, her hands gripping my arms like she feared I’d disappear if she let go.
“Your father said to leave you alone, that if you ran away from the altar, it meant you needed space, and I was being my usual overbearing self. But I couldn’t take the chance it wasn’t some degenerate using your card since it’s the first clue I’ve gotten to your whereabouts since you went MIA.”
Shame coated me at her words for making them worry and the fact my parents still provided for me and therefore had access to my bank cards. I hadn’t meant to cause my family distress as I sought out choices I could make for myself, but they had, and that was on me for not taking the time to reach out.
I often hated how much they hovered, but I knew it was justified. I had been sick and almost died. That left a mark on a family and child. Though sometimes, it felt almost worse to survive, but that was a belief I’d never utter aloud. At least, not to the people who’d also gone through it. It was a secret shame I wore like a ten-pound weight.
“I’m sorry, Mom. Things got a bit overwhelming, and I just needed some time to think.”
She sucked in a breath, nodding as she finally let go of my arms. Her hands moved to my face, smoothing them over my cheeks as she took in my outfit. “I don’t think that was quite the look the designer had in mind for this dress, BB,” she teased, showing me the fun side of my mom. Not the one obsessed with my wedding, but the mom who would take me out for ice cream and get my nails done when we were having a bad day.
“I dunno. I think it’s much improved,” I joked, twisting and turning as I pretended to show it off.
She grimaced but didn’t comment, taking my hand in hers as she turned and walked to where she’d parked. I guess my self-journey and reckless decision-making were over for the time being.
“I kinda took over, didn’t I?” she asked, regret etched on her face, her similar blue eyes flashing with guilt.
“Yeah.” I sighed, stopping our trek. “I should’ve said something from the start, but I could tell how much everyone else wanted it. I thought, maybe if I went along with it, then I’d eventually want it too.”
“Oh, BB. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to marry Brandon.”
Her words soothed something in me, and I was glad we were having this talk. It was long overdue.
“I kept pinching myself during the proposal, waiting to wake up from the nightmare,” I admitted.
She chuckled, then grimaced. “I did try to stop him from that particular method. He’s a nice boy, if not a little boring. I thought you could’ve had a beautiful life together, but I always wondered if he was just incredible in bed or something.”
“Mother!” I gasped.
“What? Sex is an important part of a marriage, honey. Your father and I had our differences, but we never had any issues in the bedroom department.”
“Ew, gross! Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” I covered my ears as she laughed, the mom I recognized surfacing.
