Page 119 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

I lean away from him, putting a few inches of distance between us. Like I have the plague. Like Iamthe plague.

“Mads, look at me,” he orders.

With as much strength as I can muster, I peek over at him, my eyes filling with fresh tears.

“Is it in the past?” he asks.

“Yeah, but––”

“We all have shit from our pasts.”

“This is different,” I argue.

“I slept with someone while you were in the room next to mine.Becauseyou were in the room next to mine. Trust me. I get it. And if you were able to forgive me, I don’t need to know your shit to forgive you too.” He leans forward and makes sure he has my full attention. “We clear?”

My lower lip trembles as I bite down on it. “Y-you don’t want to know?”

“Is it about Marty?”

I gasp. “How did you––”

“‘Cause I know you. And I know how spooked you got when he was at our house. Was he the one calling your old number too?”

“Y-yes, but––”

“I can tell you’re trying to keep him in the past, even though he’s trying to stir up shit. That’s on him. Not you.”

“Still,” I choke out.

“Were you with him? Before?”

I nod, hating the truth more than ever.

“Okay.”

Digging my fingernails into my palms, I ask, “That’s it? You don’t… You don’t wanna know all the details or anything?”

“Not if it’ll hurt you to say it out loud when I can already tell it’s killing you.” His calloused fingers tickle my cheek as he tucks my hair behind my ear. “What I wanna know is if you love me.”

“You know I do,” I whisper.

“Then nothing else matters.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and release a slow, shaky breath. “Milo…”

“No more being sad,” he orders, placing a quick kiss on my forehead as if it has the power to wipe away all my guilt. My shame. My hurt. “Now, come on. Let’s go get a tattoo.”

My eyes widen, feeling whiplashed. “You mean right now?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“Well,” I motion to the baby in his arms, “For starters, I just got home and had an emotional breakdown––”

“Which is what tattoos are for,” he jokes.

“Who’s going to watch Penny?”

“She can come. Can’t you, sweetheart?” He blows a few raspberries against her cheek and nibbles on her sensitive little neck.

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