Page 63 of The Tattoo Artist

The sobs racked my body, escaping from deep within my soul. Each cry was a desperate plea for the memories that were lost, for the love that slipped through my fingers like sand. It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside, my heart torn asunder, and there was nothing I could do to stop the overwhelming grief.

The room around me blurred as my tears fell like raindrops, staining the floor with my pain. I felt so small and helpless, lost in a sea of emotions that threatened to consume me entirely. The weight of the unknown, the void of forgotten memories was unbearable.

With each sob, I felt hollower, as if the essence of who I once was had been taken away, leaving me a shell of my former self. The anguish washed over me in waves, drowning me in a sea of despair.

But all I had was the sound of my own cries echoing through the empty room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ALEXANDRA JONES

AS I SAT BEHIND THE FRONT DESK OF THE LIBRARY, my fingers moved in a rhythmic dance, silently stamping the due dates on the books that were returned. Maxine, my cheerful co-worker, was busy helping a young girl find her favourite storybook.

The weight of the past week’s truth still clung to me like a heavy cloak, suffocating and numbing my emotions. My heart felt hollow, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being adrift in a sea of sadness. As Maxine brought in another stack of books, her concern for me evident in her caring eyes, I mustered a weak smile.

“You okay, sugar?” She whispered, gently nudging my arm.

I sigh, trying to find the right words to convey the pain that was gnawing at me from within. “Not really,” I finally admitted, my voice barely audible.

“Heartbreak?” She guessed, her voice soft and empathetic.

I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice to speak the truth. It felt like the mere mention of his name could tear down the walls I had carefully built around my heart.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, her hand resting on mine in a comforting gesture. “If you ever want to talk or need anything, you know I’m here for you, right?”

“Thank you, Maxine,” I whispered, grateful for her understanding and support.

As I continued to stamp the books mechanically, the library’s usual calm and serene atmosphere felt like a distant memory. It was hard to focus on anything else when my heart was in turmoil. A part of me wanted to forget, to push the pain away, but I knew I needed to face it and heal. But maybe just not now. I’m just not ready enough to face him. To face a man who knows me more than I know myself. Why didn’t he just tell me from the beginning? Why didn’t anyone tell me?

“I never want to see him again,” I blurt out, the words escaping before I could even fully comprehend their weight.

I felt my heart pounding loudly in my chest as I caught sight of Ares’ car pulling up outside the library.

Panic surged through me, and I instinctively sought refuge beneath the front desk, hoping to stay hidden from his view. From my vantage point, I could see Maxine greeting him as he entered the library.

“Hi Maxine,” Ares spoke, but his voice sounded different, almost laden with a hint of sorrow.

“Ares, what do you want?” Maxine ask, her tone guarded.

“Is Alexandra here? I need to speak with her.”

“No, she called in sick. You can leave a message,” Maxine lies, clearly protecting my space.

There was a moment of tense silence, and then he asked, “you eat pomegranates now?” Panic surged through me again, realising that I had left the container behind.

“Yes, always have. Now, you can leave a message,” Maxine retorted firmly, seemingly aware of my presence.

I heard a faint sliding sound against the counter, and I could only imagine what he had left for me. “Give this to her… she’ll probably need it,” Ares said, his voice heavy with emotion. “And that if she needs anything…call me and I’ll be there.”

He knew I was hiding from him; I feel tears blur my vision as I tuck my head into my knees.

“Okay, I will. Goodbye,” Maxine responds, and I held my breath as his footsteps retreated and his car drove off.

Maxine shook her head at me with a knowing expression as I tried to steady myself and stand up. Once Ares was out of sight, I finally rose to my feet, and she handed me an envelope that he had left behind.

It is A4-sized, and I could feel my heart racing with anticipation and trepidation.

“How did he look like?” I ask her.

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