I flip my left hand over, exposing what completes the design. I had Ronnie down at the shop do this one. All summer, we worked on this tattoo. It might look like an underwater ocean scene, but it holds much deeper meaning.
No one would understand the importance of it unless they know me. There are three who know me. Two people who see what I let them. One person who knew the real me, but that was four years ago. A lot has changed in that time, and now I want her to see.
Will she know…?
I hear her intake of breath and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her hand is over her mouth, and she moves closer to me, her finger tracing the air close to my wrist but not touching. I hold still for a moment. She sees. She knows.
Realization strikes. I’m not ready for that box of emotions to open. So, I yank my hand away and cross my arms over my chest to block her from seeing any more.
She hadn’t forgotten me. She remembers, but that was the old me. Mila wouldn’t like who I am now.
I don’t even like me.