Page 77 of The Tattoo Artist

“I am not lying.” I rub onto my nose again.

“Yes, you are! Who is it?”

“His name is Ares.” She gasps, shooting up from her seat before clapping her hands in excitement. I had to try and calm her down before my parents begin to want to know what’s going on. “Stop, what are you doing?”

“He came back…oh…I knew he wouldn’t give up on you.” I raise a confused brow for a moment.

“Wait…what? You know about Ares?”

“I do, you used to tell me everything on the phone and I would sit there drinking champagne listening to you blabber about him and the present he got you…a butterfly necklace, he engraved it, and you wouldn’t shut up about it…”

She takes my hand.

“The way he looked at you, the way he made you smile, and the way he stood-”

I wanted her to continue, but my mother interrupted us as she set down the food onto the table. Auntie Coraline releases my hands, and we exchanged a knowing glance before resuming our composure.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in,” my mother announced, and we all gathered around the table for a hearty meal.

I kept my gaze fixed on my mother throughout the meal.

How could she keep something so important from me?

She looked up at me every once in a while, but I snapped out of it, trying to focus on the conversation around me before she notices something is wrong.

Ares is the next thought that came to mind.

What if I never remember what he meant to me?

What was I to him?

What did I think of him?

I thought my life was boring and uninteresting, but I was clearly mistaken. So much has happened, so much is happening. What if they were never this strict before? What if it begin the moment I had the accident? What if they used it to their advantage?

Auntie Coraline continues to talk about her trip to Africa and her wild adventures about her smoking weed with the lions. If looks could kill, Auntie Coraline would be dead by now. My mother put on her stern face, trying to be the responsible one, but I secretly enjoyed Auntie Coraline’s thrilling stories. And so did my father by the looks of it.

When dinner was finished, Mum and Dad went to bed, leaving just Aunt Caroline and I downstairs. Auntie Coraline stood next to me, arms folded over her chest, analysing me. I drop the plate back into the sink with the others, turning my head to face her. “Love is the strongest emotion in the body, it takes a toll on you…it ruins you and it makes you dangerous.”

“I love him…I love him but what if…what if I never remember who he was to me? I could only believe the words he tells me...” I murmur; my voice laced with uncertainty. “What if we had a big argument or…”

“You don’t need memories to know you are in love.”

“But what if...” I began again, my voice faltering.

Aunt Caroline gently squeezed my shoulder, offering me a reassuring smile. “Sometimes, love is about trust,” she said softly. “Trust in the feelings that reside within your heart, even when memories may falter. Do you trust him, Alexandra Jones?”

Do I trust him?

Without a bloody doubt.

“I do. Why didn’t you tell me? If you knew, why did you let this go on for two years?”

“Because... when the time is right, it will come out. And it was not my place to tell, it was his…” she explains gently.

Auntie Coraline headed off to the guest bedroom downstairs, and I decided to leave the dishes for tomorrow. My mind was too preoccupied with the disclosures of the day. I made my way to my bedroom; it is as if I was trying to piece together a puzzle without all the right clues.

I shut the door behind me, locking it before turning around.

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