Chapter 18
2 Weeks Later…
I woke up and my head was on his chest, on his right peck and in my line of vision was ink on his left peck. I lifted up on an elbow and looked closer. It was surrounded by skin that was reddish, a tiny bit swollen-looking due to being new. It was shiny, probably with some sort of ointment, and it was beautiful.
He’d gotten in last night late, after I’d been asleep. Over his heart was a tattoo that very much looked like the tribal art on his shoulder trailing down his arm, but this was a small owl on an olive branch, the Greek mythological Athena symbol I’d seen a million times in my life.
Below the olive branch, it said my name, but instead of my given Goddess name, it said Tia and it looked like my own handwriting, like I’d drawn my name on myself. A lump formed in my throat and tears filled my eyes. His eyes opened and he saw what my focus was on. He looked at me lovingly and caressed my cheek.
“The forgiveness you’ve shown me for all I’ve done to you, baby? It means everything.” His voice was sleepy, sweet. “You’ve written your name on my heart, so I wanted it visible. I saw the artist who did my other ink. I think he integrated it all really well.”
“It’s beautiful, Tommy.”
He kissed my cheekbone, kissing a tear away. “The way you trace my ink all the time after we make love, I want you tracing your name on me, too. So, I had it written just the way you’d do it. Went through your boxes to get a writing sample. I’m branded. You own me, baby girl. Body and soul.”
“Will you marry me?” I asked, through tears, looking at my Ice Cream Parlor Hottie, my dream man.
Every time he gave me a big smile, I thought it was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. But right then, lying together in the little bed in the hayloft where I’d truly fallen in love with him, he gave me the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen yet and then he said, “I’ll think about it.”
I scrunched my nose up at him and he leaned over and kissed it.
* * *
Later that morning we drove back to the city to finish packing our things. We were starting over somewhere else. We didn’t want to live in the house Tom bought, the house that I now knew was bought because it was my own mother’s dream house. Tom’s distorted entitlement put all this in motion and we wanted nothing to do with it. We were getting on a plane and taking some time for one another before the family flew down to meet us for our wedding.
I went into the kitchen and Sarah handed me a cup of coffee. When I took a sip, I could swear there was not a grain of sugar in it. My eyes narrowed at her and she gave me a sly smile and turned around and resumed packing a box of dishes. I was about to reach for the sugar but noticed the sugar bowl had already been packed away. I sat down at the island and decided to see if I could live without my three sugars. I took a second sip and really, it wasn’t all that bad.