This time, he made the appointment himself.
The night before, we sat together on the sofa. I found myself looking at the tattoo again. The same face. The same sad eyes. The same woman who had threatened our marriage.
I only understood it now.
Ryan looked at her.
He remained silent for a long time.
Then I was surprised.
“No.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
His thumb grazed the edge of the tattoo.
“I don’t think I need any more.”
Wait.
“For years I kept it because I thought it deserved that reminder.”
Her eyes remained on the portrait.
The words caught me off guard. A year earlier, they would have started another fight.
Not now.
Because the tattoo was no longer a secret. It wasn’t another woman. It wasn’t a lost romance. It wasn’t a lie.
It was a reminder.
