Page 122 of The Tattoo Artist

“I will sort her out, go.” Aunt Coraline walks past me, muttering under her breath as I lean against the wall beside the door. “Mrs Nicolaides.”

“Ares?” Her voice came from behind the partially opened door, and her hand tentatively reached out, seeking mine. I smirk, gently intertwining my fingers with hers.

“What’s going on, butterfly? Second thoughts already?”

Her sigh was heavy with frustration as she leans against the door. “Nothing is going right, nothing at all. My earring is lost, and so are my vows. I can’t find them anywhere.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her distress, my thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand. I push the door open, “Ares.” and my eyes locks with hers. Aunt Coraline made us sleep in sperate beds the night before, something we haven’t done in years, and I think this is why she’s acting out because she is scared. I mean who wouldn’t be after everything we’ve been through. From looking into windows to hearts breaking and love forming. Alexandra looks up at me, and I am in awe of her beauty. “Ares you aren’t supposed to see me-”

“I don’t care.” I kiss her lips softly, her red lipstick smudging against my lips. She smiles. I can feel her smile. This is what she needed. “Lets get out of here.”

Her brows raise.

“Trust me.”

“Always.” I take her hand and she picks up the bottom of her dress as we walk out of the room, looking left and right before heading out of the church.

“Alexandra! Ares!” Aunt Coraline yells, with a shared smile, we broke into a run, the urgency of our escape lending wings to our feet. “Get back here!” Aunt Coraline’s voice grew more distant as we reached the grand doors of the church.

The guests stare in shock as we burst through the doors, the sunlight blinding us momentarily as we descend the steps. Alexandra tightens her grip on my hand, her trust unwavering as we dash into the open fields surrounding the church, leaving the chaos of the wedding behind us. Alexandra stops us for a moment, kicking her heels off to the side before falling into my arms. I look down at her, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ears.

I love her.

God, words cannot explain how much I love this woman.

Words cannot explain what I would do for this woman.

“I have something to show you.” I speak, walking towards the surprise, she follows behind me and we reach the glass house. I open the door, allowing her to step in first.

“What is it?” She asks, her curiosity evident in her voice.

“Just go inside,” I reply with a grin, watching as she entered the glass house.

The moment she stepped inside, the fairy lights illuminated, casting a warm and magical glow over the space. And then, as if on cue, the butterflies were released, fluttering gracefully around her in a riot of colours.

She gasps in wonder, her eyes wide with amazement as she looks around at the swirling display of beauty before her. She turns around, her eyes locking with mine. “I don’t need your vows; I don’t need anything from you. Just promise me one thing.” I step forward, her hands slide up my arms.

“What?” She smiles.

“Don’t ever forget me again.”

“I will try not to.”

She kisses my lips.

Not once, but twice, we fell in love with each other. This shows how strong our love is. It’s been a confusing journey for both of us, but one thing is certain: I’m glad I didn’t give up on her. She may not have fully recovered and regained all of her memories. But I enjoy it; I enjoy telling her about our memories and watching her reaction.

Bad and good.

Sad and happy.

Hate and love.

Night and day.

Worse and better.

Diávolos and Angelos.

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