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I try to read her expression, but all she says is, “We agreed I wouldn’t answer questions like that.”
I both love and hate how good she is at sticking to the rules. “Right, right, sorry.”
“Maybe you will tattoo the wordsluton me. Unfortunately for your OCD, I don’t care. We can just put one of those little banners around it. Oh, I know! We can turn it into a sassy candy heart.”
“I don’t thinksassyis the right word.”
“Meh. I can always get a coverup. Now chop-chop! Back to work! Can’t wait to find out if I get that gorgeous beetle tattoo or the wordslut. Maybe I’ll get both. A beetle slut tattoo. Oh, that sounds like a fabulous band name.”
Jesus, I have no idea how I’ve gone without seeing this girl for six months. How was I not bored out of my mind every day? “Does it?”
“Mm... maybe not. Good thing I’m a solo artist.”
I resume tattooing her and don’t undo the thoughts when they come. I let them hang out in my head like it’s totally normal to worry you’ll tattoo the wordsluton the woman you’re in love with.
“You sit better than Ollie, you know,” I say.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. He was swearing at me the whole time. Feared for my life, to tell you the truth.”
Raine laughs. “I would’ve paid good money to see that.”
We settle into a comfortable quiet then. I check in with her every so often. An hour into it, she says, “I think I kind of like the feeling? Is that normal? It’s sort of relaxing, even if it’s uncomfortable.”
“That’s the endorphins,” I say.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
She doesn’t respond at first, and I wonder if the pain is getting to her. Her skin doesn’t feel clammy, so I don’t think she’s in danger of fainting, but maybe I’m wrong. I just need to finish pulling this line, and then I’ll—
“I love you.”
I’m so startled that it takes all of my focus to finish pulling the line. As soon as it’s finished, I lift my hands from her. “Jesus, Lorraine! You could’ve ended up with a line straight across your leg!”
“Sorry,” she says. Once the shock wears off, I notice her cheeks have turned pink. I turn off the machine and set it aside. It’s so quiet in here that I can hear my pulse in my ears.
When I look up at her, I don’t know what to think. Not abouther.I’m certain about that. I love the girl. I’ve lost count of how many times over the last six months I’ve nearly blurted it out over the phone. But hearing her say it... I don’t feel elation like I should. Eight months ago, I walked into my pub, and there she was talking to my cat. It took less than two months to fall in love with her. Not even six months apart could put a dent in it. We’ve had more conversations over the phone than we’ve had in person. It feels like a cruel trick from the universe for her to love me back when we can’t be together.
“I love you too, ciaróg,” I say. “You know that, right?”
“I know,” she says. There’s a moment of silence, and then she sighs and says, “Jack, what are we doing?”
I search her face. She looks exhausted, and I don’t think it’s from the tattooing. “What do you mean?”
“Why aren’t we together?”
I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about how I can’t be the man she deserves when I want to be that person more than anything. “I know it might seem like I’ve got everything together, and yes, I’m doing a lot better than the last time we saw each other, but... Raine, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to keep up with you. I’mcertainI’ll never be able to. And you can’t give up your life for me. I won’t let you. I just don’t see how we can have a normal relationship.”
“Is that all?”
I laugh. “Raine, that’s a pretty big thing.”
“When did I ever say I wanted normal? What about my life is normal? My job isn’t normal. My living situation isn’t normal. My inability to keep track of a single pair of matching socksdefinitelyisn’t normal.”
I groan. “Be serious.”
