Page 92 of Never Give Up

Free to live and move on from all the hell he put me through.

Except, no one told me getting a tattoo would hurt as much as it did.

They didn’t tell me that every needle piercing my skin would feel the same as when I was wearing a cast on my arm after it was broken.

The sensation of itching and needing to be scratched, but the inability to do so.

Yet now that the tattoo artist is busy at work leaning over my arm, I start to have second thoughts.

It isn’t that I don’t want to get the tattoo, but rather that I don’t ever want to be in pain again.

Still, I don’t say anything as the artist continues to put the tattoo needles to my skin. Refusing to look at it until he’s done, I want it to be a surprise.

I wait until he has wiped the last of the extra ink away and backs away with a smile on his face.

“Take a look, girl.”

Only then do I look down at the scar I thought would make me hideous for the rest of my life.

He outlined the letters with neon purple, matching the color of the cast I had at one point, accentuating the scars while making something beautiful out of what marked me as horrific. A splash of color pops behind the word kismet, with reds, oranges, blues, greens, and yellows melding together in such a stunning array that I want to cry.

It looks as though someone took a paint palette and used long swift strokes to draw on my arm. I’m stunned by the beauty of it. And I will never forget the artist who made my scar into something I will find beautiful instead of disgusting.

I succeeded. I won in the end.

And I created my own fate.

I stole back my life. Piece by piece and day by day. But this, this is the last step. The very last thing that I could possibly do. And I did it.

Alone.

I fucking did it.

Now, I can look forward to my life with Brian and my boys. Because they’re mine, all of them. And I’ll be damned if anyone will try and take them away again.

All my dreams are finally coming true. Not wanting to get Brian’s hopes up until I’m sure, I went to get tests done in secret. I want to know if there’s the possibility I can carry a child—our child. I’ve been waiting impatiently, hoping for good news. But now, looking at the beautiful and cathartic tattoo on my arm, I realize that no matter what the doctors say—my life is just beginning. And I have an entire lifetime together with Brian to explore the potential.

* * *

Jake

I watchmy best friend pick out the ring, plan the date, and make the decision that will inevitably be the best thing he ever does.

Maya thinks we don’t know she’d scheduled an appointment to get a tattoo, her own way of closing the door on the trauma she went through. But there’s nothing she does that Brian doesn’t know about or find out about.

Man’s a goner for her.

And I can’t say I blame him.

“She’s ready, Jake.” Brian holds up the ring to show me. “I think she’s finally ready for me to ask.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Ask her before she smartens up and dumps your ass.”

Proposal day comes and we launch into Brian’s plan, where he convinces Maya to hike to the top of a mountain and bring the boys and his family along. Me, Brandi, and Poppy, too. Once we’re all at the top, Maya lies down on the grass to catch her breath. Brian stands over her with the ring box in his hand.

“Maya,” he says. “I don’t want to live my life without you. I waited for so long for you to be ready for this, so please say yes before I die of old age. Will you marry me?”

I find myself holding my breath along with everyone else. But the look on Maya’s face is worth everything.

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