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I’m Xavier, the owner of Tattoo Workz. Of course I can help you. What kind of design are you looking for?
I looked helplessly at Cora.
“What should I cover it with?” I asked.
She gave me a thoughtful look as she swallowed her mouthful of popcorn.
“I don’t know. Flowers?”
Flowers reminded me of my mom’s funeral.I’m not sure yet, I wrote back to Xavier.
Xavier:Not a problem. I’ll get my best artist on it and send you a couple of options.
I didn’t expect him to get back to me immediately, so I locked my phone and placed it next to me.
Cora went to the kitchen and emerged with two large glasses and a bottle of wine.
“I’m proud of you,” she said as she poured both of them more than halfway. She held up her glass so I could clink mine against it.
“Cheers to moving on,” she said, her smiling face glowing from the soft light of our lamps.
“Cheers,” I said, and sipped the wine. It tasted good, and I felt like I’d made progress. Maybe, despite tonight not turning out the way either of us had expected, this was the best outcome after all.
My feet ached from being in heels all night, and when I finished my wine, I realized that all I wanted was a shower and eight hours of sleep.
“Thanks for taking me out tonight,” I said to Cora. “I’m feeling better.” I gave her a hug and went to the bathroom with my phone in my hand.
The water ran while I undressed and examined my breasts in the mirror, using the method from the pamphlets in mom’s oncology waiting room. A visual inspection first, checking for changes, then a manual check with my hands, searching for lumps, starting at my nipples and working my way out.
The tattoo was dark against my pale skin, impossible to ignore, even though I did my best.
No wonder Ryder freaked out, I thought.
Steam rose from the tiled floor, fogging my view of my breasts, then the tattoo, and finally my face.
My phone beeped again, and I picked it up, surprised that Xavier had replied so quickly.
But the name on the screen made my blood run cold.
Nathan.
I didn’t want to open the message, but I couldn’t stop myself.
He’d sent a photo of me and Ryder at the nightclub tonight. Ryder’s hand was on my arm and he whispered something in my ear while I laughed.
The caption:Always knew you were a slut.
My heart plunged into my stomach.
3
EMMA
The tattoo guns were so loud we could hear them buzzing before we reached the shop.
The Tattoo Workz studio looked the same as it did on their social media page: a two-story terrace building with the glass-covered shopfront downstairs and narrow windows upstairs.
The sound became louder as Cora pushed the door open.
