THIRTY-SEVEN
Madelyn
(One month later)
After surviving David’s abuse for two years, almost dying by his hand, and mourning the loss of my two precious angels—I didn’t think I’d ever find a way to be happy again.
I should have known better.
I’m in love with a man that would do absolutely anything to ensure my happiness. He loves me unconditionally. I love him the same. He makes it so easy to be happy.
People who don’t know us—who don’t know our story—might see us as the quintessential happy couple. If they only knew the hell Jaxson and I have been through. But we made it. We’re better because of it.
It helps that the dust has settled, and the town gossip has all but stopped. People no longer look at me with pity in their eyes. They stopped asking questions and making assumptions. It won’t last long, though. Jaxson and I are about to stir up all sorts of trouble.
I woke up this morning happy, in love, and engaged.
That’s right, I’m engaged to Jaxson Blackwood and I don’t give a rat’s ass if anyone has anything to say about it. People are going to talk. They’re going to judge, say it’s too soon, but I’ll ignore every stare and every whisper. It’s our life and we’re spending every moment living it to the fullest.
There was no grand gesture. No cheesy, stereotypical ask. No romantic, over-the-top proposal. Only a simple conversation between two people in love. A conversation that ended with Jaxson slipping a beautiful ring on my finger. The very same ring he’s held onto since the first time he wanted to ask me to be his wife. That’s what made it perfect.
His simple gesture only confirmed what I already knew—he’s the only man for me. He knows me, and always knows exactly what I need.
We’re not having a long engagement. Jaxson would marry me today if I would agree. In fact, he tried to convince me to do just that, but I have a couple things I need to do before I take his last name. Things that are part of my healing process and only for me.
So today, I’ll take a couple more steps forward.
Tomorrow, I’ll make the leap.
I’ll marry the man that was always meant to be my forever.
My first task of the day is a little self-care.
I’ve been feeling better for a while now. The last couple of months have been an uphill battle, but in that time, I’ve changed, healed, and grown. I feel like a new person and I think it’s time I look like the new me, too. Some time at the salon is the perfect remedy.
I walk into the salon and Camille jumps at the chance to give me a fresh look.
Two hours later, I walk out feeling like a brand-new woman.
Sometimes all a girl needs is her hair done and a mani-pedi.
I head to my next destination on autopilot.
I called ahead and scheduled an appointment because I wanted to be absolutely certain I could get in today. It’s almost time.
I park and get out, absently thinking about getting a new car soon as I walk up to the door.
One slow, deep breath later and I’m inside, shaking hands with the man I’m here to see. He’s tall, dark, and extremely good looking. His muscular arms are covered in ink, so are his neck and throat, making it easy to assume that ink extends down under the fabric of his shirt. I’d be willing to bet he’s covered there too.
He would be intimidating if not for his eyes. He has tiny creases at the corners, which tells me he smiles and laughs frequently. His eyes are soft and show nothing but kindness.
“Hey, you must be Madelyn,” he says with a dazzling smile. “I’m Adam. We talked earlier.”
“That’s me. Thanks for getting me in so quickly.”
He chuckles, “No problem. You’re actually helping me out. I don’t normally ink here, so I don’t have any clients and my schedule is wide open.”
He leads me into a room where he’s got everything set up. I get comfortable in the chair and we banter while he gets ready. I let him know exactly what I wanted when I called earlier, down to the font I want to use, so he’s already got the stencil ready in a few different sizes.
I learn that he’s here from Florida, watching the shop as a favor for a friend, but not much more. He’s super nice and really friendly, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about personal shit. Totally fine by me. I get it, more than he knows.
“You said you wanted this on your side, right?”
“Kinda, yeah. Right here at the top of my ribs, towards my side.” I motion with my hand, showing him exactly where I want it.
“Got it,” he nods. “Gonna need you to take your shirt off, then we’ll get this stencil on.”
“Bra too?” I ask, pulling my shirt over my head.
Chuckling, he replies, “Not unless you want to. I damn sure wouldn’t complain, but I’m pretty sure your man might have a problem with it."
“You’re right about that.”
Standing in front of a stranger without a shirt on is only a little awkward.
He preps the area for the transfer and double checks the placement before pressing it onto my skin. Once he peels back the paper, he has me look in a mirror to make sure it looks like I want it to before he starts.
I smile when I see the words across my skin. Now it’s time to make them permanent.
“It’s perfect.”
“It’ll look good there, you picked a great spot.”
I can see his eyes on me through the reflection. The furrow in his brow tells me exactly what he’s looking at and unlike most men, it’s not my tits. He wants to ask, but he won’t. I can already tell that about him.
“Hop up here, lay flat on your back and we’ll get started.”
As I get into position, he picks up his machine and gets it ready to go. Rolling closer to me on his stool, he turns on a lamp and adjusts it to give him the best light.
“This is your first tattoo?”
I nod, nibbling on my bottom lip. I’ll admit I’m a little nervous, but this is something I really want. I could have brought one of my sisters with me, but it’s something I felt I needed to do on my own.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “You picked the worst spot for your first ink. You know this is going to hurt like a bitch, right?”
I give him a little shrug. “It can’t be worse than being shot.”
His eyes widen and I almost want to laugh. His eyes drift from my shoulder, down to my abdomen.
“Christ, girl. I thought those looked like scars from a bullet, but I figured I was imagining shit.” He shakes his head and turns on his machine. “Damn. You ready for this?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
It’s an odd sensation, the tattoo needle in my skin. It hurts, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I rest my head on my arm and relax as much as possible. I feel strangely comfortable with Adam, so I decide to engage with him while he works.
“You’re definitely not from around here if you don’t know what happened to me. This town loves to gossip,” I say.
“Nah, I haven’t been here long.” His eyes flicker up to mine for a second before going back to his work. “What’s your story?”
“You sure you wanna know? It’s not pretty.”
“The best ones never are.”
So, while Adam inks words permanently onto my body, I tell him everything that’s happened. He doesn’t get the nitty, gritty details, but enough to get the full story. He listens intently, asking an occasional question. The only other interruptions are when he mutters expletives under his breath during the really bad parts. By the time I’m finished, so is my tattoo, and I’m pretty sure I’ve left Adam speechless.
“Jesus, fuck.” Or maybe not.
“You’re a badass, Madelyn.”
That makes me laugh, but he’s not wrong.
“I’m serious. The tattoo makes perfect sense now.”
Adam helps me sit up and walks me in front of the mirror.
I may be a badass, but I’m not immune to tears. A wave of emotion passes over me when I see the words etched permanently under the curve of my breast.
through every dark night
there is a brighter day
It’s exactly what I wanted and it’s absolutely perfect. This is exactly what I needed, a reminder that there’s always happiness on the other side of struggle.
“Thank you,” I tell him through my tears. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Pretty sure I have some idea.”
Once he applies some ointment over the ink and wraps it up, I slip my shirt back on. He explains aftercare while we walk back up to the front to take care of payment. Once everything is squared away, I head for the door.
“Hey, Madelyn?” he says as I open the door to leave.
“What’s up?” I ask, looking back.
“If you ever wanna cover those scars...don’t hesitate to look me up. I’ll come to you and turn them into something beautiful for you. No charge.”
Stunned, I don’t respond with words. Instead, I let the door close and I walk back over to Adam. I may have just met this man today, but I don’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him—taking care not to hit my new ink—and give him a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I pull away and exit the building, leaving him with a smile and a few tears on his plain black tee.