Page 158 of Legacy
Like it’s still bleeding.
Still alive.
And just below it are two letters.
One A in black. One A in red.
Mirrored. Encircled by thorny vines.
Ours.
On the other side, etched into his ribs like tally marks carved in survival—
Roman numerals:
V. VIII.
VIII. V.
My birthday and his.
But it’s the lowest marking that unravels me.
Where the muscles of his pelvis taper into shadow. Right above the low waistband of his jeans, red petals scatter down like fallen love, darkened and singed at the edges. And behind the rising shade inked across his V-line, tucked low is one word…
Scarlet.
My name.
A secret. A burn. A brand.
“My body is also an homage to you,” he says, steady.
“Your possessions that line my office shelves? They’re not the only shrine.”
He extends his arms like a broken altar.
“Every single one of these leads back to you.”
The tears fall fast now.
Hot. Silent.
My throat closes.
“My whole life is a dedication to you, Adriana.”
I stare at him.
Really stare.
My voice cracks.
“No…”
It comes out broken. A ghost.
But I can’t look away.
