The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

I’m flabbergasted to say the least that the woman I’m supposed to marry in two days is asking me to permanently mark my body with a memory of the woman I bailed on her for. “Are you alright? Have you been taking medication to help with wedding stress?”

I swear I’ll have a bruise on my arm where she’s been smacking me all morning.

“Are you done being an ass?” I don’t answer, one; because I don’t think she expects me too, and two; because she loves that I’m an ass. “Tori and I were talking and she mentioned Brady had lost someone he loved too, and that he got a tattoo so he would always remember her. I know what Maria meant to you and I just thought . . . it would be a nice way to . . . you know to . . .”

As she struggles to fully explain what the hell is going on in her head, I decide to help her out. “Okay, I’ll get a tattoo if you do.”

“Really?” She beams with excitement.

“Yes, but I get to pick and you can’t see what it is until it’s done.”

Her excitement vanishes. I watch her lips move back and forth with what I’m sure feels like a test of her trust. It’s not. I would be just as happy walking out of here ink free, but if she wants me to get a tattoo, she will have one too.

“Okay.”

My lips smile just as Davey approaches. We exchange bro hugs, and when I go to introduce him to Peyton, it seems they already know each other. “Okay, so are we going with the hot air balloon?”

He waits on me to answer, but I feel like my knees are going to give out and the air has evaporated from my lungs. Over the last few months, I’ve opened up to Peyton a lot. I told her about the tattoo Maria got while we were apart and what it meant to me. I don’t need the tattoo to understand the impact of this woman’s love and what she would do for me.

“No, we’re getting something different.” I take Davey aside and tell him what I want done and ask if he can do it. He has me follow him to a desk and works up a quick sketch . . .”That’s perfect, man,” I tell him when he’s finished. “When’d you start doing this?”

“You learn a few things in prison.” I understand the reasons for his terse laughter. Davey was dealt an even shittier hand in life than I was, yet he finally seems to have it all together.

“Alright, so you or the old lady first?” he asks, glancing at Peyton who just walked up.

“You can go first,” she kindly offers.

“Oh, no . . . and give you the chance to chicken out?” I look at Davey. “She’ll go first.”

He leads us to his station. After Peyton settles in the chair, he has her lower her jeans so he can place the etching just above her hip on the far right side where we decided was the best place to get the tattoo.

Her eyes focus on me above her as Davey explains what she can expect. “I swear to God if I end up with a dick tattoo, I will rip your balls off.”

I laugh, quirking a brow. “You can always opt for the piercing.”

She narrows her eyes at me as she warns me again. “Clean off, Aidan Hunter.”

“Relax. I promise you’ll love this.”

The buzz of the needle makes it harder to watch her grimacing, but I think about the smile I’ll be rewarded with later and tune it out. This is my girl. My only girl. It’s time she understands what she means to me and the impact she’s had on my life.

Getting a tattoo didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. The real agony is not being able to look at it until Aidan’s finished. I try to excuse myself to the bathroom so I can sneak a peek, but my effort is way too obvious.

My curiosity intensifies as I watch Davey apply the etching for Aidan’s tattoo, but at a distance where I can’t see the design. The wait grows less excruciating as the buzzing of the needle becomes hypnotic.

Davey finally sets the needle down and applies antiseptic to the finished product on Aidan’s left hip.

“I love you,” Aidan says, leading me by the hand to a full-length mirror on the wall.

We stand side by side and my breath falters as he lowers his jeans slightly. I notice half a heart cut out like a puzzle. I hold my jeans as Davey removes the gauze taped over my tattoo before he leaves us alone. Tears form when I see the heart puzzle piece on my hip is the piece that fits his. They don’t line up exactly as Aidan is significantly taller, but the message is clear. There’s lettering scrolled along the sides of each half of the hearts, but I can’t make out what it says in the mirror.

“You once said to let you in and that maybe you could replace the missing piece. You have, and I don’t have room now for Maria. Yes, I love her. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. I finally accept that.”

I don’t bother to fight the tears. “It’s beautiful. What does it say?”

“My half says, In the end all that resides . . . and your half says, in our hearts is each other.”

In the end all that resides in our hearts is each other.