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She nods, barely audible. "Yes."
I kiss her forehead. "You're not alone in this. Carrying that guilt will eat you alive."
"I don't know how to let it go," she whispers.
I glance over at the clock, noting the time. It's late but my buddy's tattoo shop is still open.
I lock eyes with her. "You know what helps me? Getting inked. All these tattoos aren't just for show. Maybe it's time you tried it?"
She presses her lips together in deep thought. "I've never... I'm nervous."
I let out a low laugh. "I've got you, sweetheart. But first, let's get you cleaned up." I stand and extend my hand to help her up, ready to guide her through this, whatever it takes.
13
QUINN
As Weston guides me into the tattoo shop, I'm hit with a wave of nerves.
I've never had a tattoo before, and I'm clueless about what I should get. But I'm grateful for Weston's support; he's showing a side of himself that's making it harder to think about leaving him.
"Travis," Weston greets as we approach a heavily tattooed man.
"Weston, my man! You here for more ink?"
Weston shakes his head. "No, I brought this beauty here for her first."
Travis's eyes roam over me. "So, what's this beauty thinking of getting?"
I glance at Weston, hoping he can help. He meets my eyes as if he can read my mind. "Give us a minute, Trav," he says.
Travis nods and moves away. Weston gently cups my face with one hand and strokes my arm with the other.
"What's on your mind, Quinn?"
I chew on my lower lip nervously. "I don't know what to get."
He smiles. "Get something that means something to you, something that'll bring you closure."
I nod. "I want something that helps me remember but also lets me move forward. I don't want to stay stuck in the past."
"How about a small phoenix?" he suggests. "It's a symbol of rebirth, of rising from the ashes. It can represent your journey through grief and coming out stronger on the other side."
The idea resonates with me, a perfect metaphor for what I've been through and where I want to go. "A phoenix," I repeat, the image forming in my mind — a graceful bird with wings spread wide, its beautiful body swirling with flames.
"Yeah, a phoenix," he confirms, giving my arm a gentle squeeze.
"Let's do it," I say, more confidently this time.
"Where do you want it?" he asks.
I pause, thinking about where this powerful symbol should go. "On my wrist," I decide. "Somewhere I can see it every day, a constant reminder to keep moving forward."
"Perfect spot," he agrees before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "It'll be painful, but I'll be right here, holding your hand," he whispers.
I give him a grateful nod. "Thank you, Weston."
He takes my hand and leads me to where I'll be getting my tattoo.
