Page 94 of Made to Sin

Dark eyebags, hollowed cheeks, slumped shoulders. She was who I saw in the mirror last month.

“I remind you of you? How? You’re beautiful, and I’m— I’m filled with scars. In what world are we the same?”

My heart clenched at her wording as stray tears leaked from my eyes and onto my shirt. I remembered the feeling all too well. The feeling of thinking I wasn’t good enough to be loved. The feeling of believing that I deserved Marco’s punishment. The feeling of someone who had been beaten so far down, I didn’t know how to get up.

There were so many things, yet nothing I could say to her to help. The only thing I could think of was a piece of advice Maria once told me to get me through my own struggles. “Please, don’t compare yourself. You are gorgeous, and markings from someone who can’t control their anger don’t change that.”

She stayed quiet, but I saw curiosity forming in her eyes as she wiped her bloodshot eyes. “Who are you to say that?”

I wiped my clammy hands along my pants. “Um, my name is Katarina.” I paused, feeling awkward to present my life story whilestanding so impersonally. “Sorry, do you mind if I come closer?”

“No, go ahead.”

She tried her best to smile and scooted over to give me space to sit on the wooden bench next to her.

“By the way, my name is Ha-Jin.”

I padded over, sitting close enough to build a connection but far enough to not touch her wounds.

“Nice to meet you, Ha-Jin. I know you might not believe me right now, but I assure you that it does get better. You’re already taking the bravest step by coming here. How do I know? Well, I was in your position once. Yes, I’m aware not every situation is the same, but I do know what it feels like to think everyone else is perfect while you struggle in silence alone.”

“I wish it were that easy, Katarina. But it’s hard to look in the mirror every day and see my reflection.”

I know. I know how you feel. I still feel it sometimes too.

Forcing myself to smile a little brighter, I decided to try a different method. She wasn’t in the mood to hear encouraging words, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to give it.

“You know what I liked to do in those situations? I put on makeup and think to myself where would that girl go in the future? That’s not to say that youneedmakeup, but it does help to visualize a future that isn’t so grim. If you want, I can show you some of my techniques to cover the bruising.”

Her jaw ticked in thought, but eventually, she broke into another sad smile. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. Would you?”

“Of course. Whenever it gets hard or you’re bored, express yourself with makeup. Then think of scenarios of where you would like to wear them to. It may seem impossible now, but one day, it’ll be worth it when you see the visions come to life.”

“Is that really what you did, Katarina.”

No, I fell victim to the highs and lows of cocaine.

The past haunted me, but I refused to let any more victimsfeel the need to resort to what I did if I could help it. My smile faltered ever so slightly as I forced a lie. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

“Okay, then. Please help me do it too.”

And so, that was exactly what I did. I asked Luciano to drive me to get some makeup for Ha-Jin, and she and I spent the whole afternoon sharing our favorite makeup looks.

Every drop of concealer I dabbed on my face reminded me of Marco. Despite my hatred for him during his last breaths, my heart tore in two. I really did love him. I loved him until I couldn’t, until love drained every last bit of me.

But as I laid him to rest, I would lay that part of me away too.

Somewhere in the process of helping Ha-Jin, I found solace and healed the jaded girl I used to be.

“WHATAREYOUDOINGHOME?”

I was taken aback when I saw Luciano sitting on the kitchen island doing his work. I had just come home from Pilates at a new studio he found, expecting Maria to greet me. Instead, the Brazilian was nowhere to be found, and there he was.

In the past weeks, we developed a routine. Like I said, nothing could go wrong with routines. They prevented me from thinking we could be anything more than a light-hearted situationship while keeping things entertaining.

Ours proceeded with us sleeping together in his bed, separating in the mornings when he goes to work, meeting again at the club where he takes me home from work, screwing each other on any possible surface, and repeating the cycle.

It was a healthy balance— to me at least.

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