Page 5 of Sins and Secrets

An office door creaks open, and he steps through the door frame. His light brown hair and stubbly chin haven’t changed, but everything else has. He seems taller, more fit, and his shirt is rolled up past his elbows, exposing his tattooed arms. But none of his other ink is exposed. That’s the thing—he’s always seemed hidden and secretive, almost mythical.

Lukas doesn’t even notice me as he checks in with his hair-looking-like-a-gorgeous-waterfall receptionist. “Jade, what's up?”

She makes a little nod with her chin in my direction. “The girl over there says she has an appointment with you and your sister booked it.”

“Shit, that’s today?”

“It wasn't on your schedule.” Jade points to the computer screen.

Lukas pushes his hair back and sighs. “Yeah, it's a cover-up. I didn't put it on. Angie said it should be easy.”

Finally, after being invisible for what feels like forever, he sees me. His head tilts to the side, his frown deepens, and a part of me wants to die inside. Was this the way he always looked at me? Frowning, disapproving.

“Waverly?”

I try to push my body up off of the couch, but the damn thing is so low and it takes me two tries to get up. And then I glance down at my pants. Wrong. My legs are wrong. Purple polar bears wearing roller blades. Right. My pajamas. I’m out in public in my PJs and a T-shirt. God, I look like a middle-schooler begrudgingly going to the grocery store. But I didn’t want to wear anything tight and my leggings were in the wash. My grandmother should be rolling over in her grave right about now.

“Hi.” I smile and pull at the hem of my shirt.

Lukas crosses his arms over his chest and blinks at me a few times. “You're my cover-up?”

“Um, yeah.” I drop my T-shirt and wipe my sweaty palms on my oh-so-fashionable PJs. “Angie picked a very low-cut bridesmaid dress. It's super cute and I love it, but...” Instead of trying to describe the issue, I walk over, turn around, and push down my pants and lift my shirt to show him the horror on my back. “The tattoo is...”

Waterfall Hair Jade cackles. “Oh my God! You’re the grand champion of the Worst Tattoo Award.”

“I was drunk,” I whisper, “and lost a bet.” Can the earth open up and swallow me right this instant?

“With Satan? Because who else could possibly hate you that much?” Jade gasps between laughs. “Everything about it is awful. The line work, the placement, the perspective, everything’s not only wrong, butbad.Don't even get me started on the subject. Jesus, did you shit on a puppy or are you atoning for some sins from a previous life?”

I pull my pants back up. I knew going in, this would be humiliating. I will not cry. And I’m doing a damn good job keeping it together until I see Lukas's face.

His eyebrows twitch, deep lines cutting through his forehead. His hands are balled up in fists and his arms are starting to shake like he’s holding back a weapon. “Who did this to you?” he growls in such a low decibel, it takes me a moment to process what he said.

“Um, some guy?”

Still clenching his fists, he turns away, storms into his office, slamming the door behind him, and screams.

Jade jumps at the sound of his shouts and starts fidgeting with stuff on the counter, looking at anything and everything but me. It’s like when you’re in school and the kid next to you is getting yelled at and you don't know what to do. I’m right there with her, and I return to playing with the hem of my shirt.

The door swings open and he stands in the frame with a conflicted look on his face, like he isn't sure if he’s ready to come out. “I guess it's pointless to give you a lecture on the importance of researching your artist, the studio, and body placement.”

He’s aware of the irony. I research everything for a living. I had a tattoo picked out years ago, same with the placement and the artist… things just didn’t go according to plan.

Jade leans over the counter, breaking the awkward stare down. “Sweetie, the tat’s kinda old. Why didn't you get it removed?”

Why does everyone assume I didn’t do my research first? It wasn’t a big issue until now.

I drop my head, looking at the navel rings lined up in the display case in front of her. “Mistakes shouldn't be erased and forgotten. You should learn from them and turn them into something beautiful.”

“Kintsugi,” he says, his voice deep and barely above a whisper. He heaves out a breath deflating his lungs. “Did you have any ideas of what you want?”

“Literally nothing you pick would be worse than what you have,” Jade offers, not even trying to stifle her laugh.

I shrug. “Flowers, maybe.”

“What type?” he grits through his teeth. His jaw is so tight I worry it might snap off if he tries to speak again.

“Whatever is easiest.”

---