Page 248 of Accidental Husband
I can't fight it for her.
School helped. Her MFA program kept her busy. It gave her an outlet. Jules always loved reading and writing, but it was a hobby, not a calling. I'm not sure what kept her from embracing it before—practicalities or insecurity or that controlling asshole Jackson. Maybe all three.
But now, after finishing her program, and writing a gajillion words of fiction and "creative non-fiction"—
She's in love with the written word. She goes there first. Before she goes to me. Before she goes to a blade.
My wife is still figuring out what she's doing with her life. She has a gig at a lifestyle website. It's not a forever job. But it's enough for now.
It pays the bills.
It gives her time and space to work on her own shit.
It makes her happy.
At the end of the day, that's all I want. The only thing I want.
I want Jules happy and healthy.
I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
I take another deep breath. Let out another steady exhale.
Yeah, this is a big deal. But it's also my job. I know how to put ink to skin.
I need to focus on that. To get through the practical part of this exercise.
Work first. Then I let it hit me.
I pour her a cup of water. Take a sip. Bring it back to her.
She drinks it in three gulps.
I change my gloves. Take a seat on the stool. Push her into the chair. "Are you ready?"
She looks down at me with all the trust in the world. "Is it going to hurt?"
"Yeah."
She bites her lip. Watches as I clean her skin, apply the stencil, pick up the gun. "Okay. I'm ready."
"You sure?"
"Do it."
I turn on the gun.
She yelps as it hits her skin. But she still makes it through the first tattoo.
Then the second.
She sighs as I turn off the gun. "Thank God."
My lips curl into a smile. She's so fucking perfect, but I need to stay focused. My work isn't done.
I clean her up. Bring her to the mirror. Show Jules her reflection.
Her eyes go wide as she takes it in. Her lips part. Her hand goes to her mouth. "Griff. It's… I…" A tear catches on her lashes.
