Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Skyla nods once, and I hope she understands what I’m trying to say. I’ve never tried to have an adult type of conversation with a thirteen year old. But then she says, “What if I wanted you to be my mom? Would you…maybe want to?”
I want to tell her yes, that I would love nothing more, but I haven’t spoken to Jase yet. Sure, he’s texted me every day to tell me he loves me, but I don’t want to assume that means he’ll forgive me and we’ll end up together.
“I messed up with your dad,” I tell her honestly. “I hurt his heart when I left.”
“I knew he was sad, but I didn’t know why.”
“I plan to apologize to him, and if we end up together, I would love nothing more than for you to be my daughter. And even if your dad and I don’t end up together, I want you to know I’m always going to be here for you. Even if it’s only as a friend. I love you so much, Skyla. I already see you like family and that’s never going to change.”
“Dad will forgive you,” she says with a smile. “He loves you.”
I smile back, but don’t say anything. I hope she’s right. I would give anything to be thirteen again and view the world and love with such innocence.
“When you guys get married, can I help design your dress?” she asks, and I laugh.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
After hanging out with Skyla for a little while, drawing and sketching more items for the fashion line we’re planning to create, I say goodbye to her with the promise that I’ll see her again soon. Then I put a call into Forbidden Ink to make an appointment so I can see Jase.
Evan tells me he’ll have to move some clients around, but promises me he’ll make sure it’s taken care of. After going home to check on my mom—who tells me she spent the afternoon finding a place where she can attend AA meetings and looking at colleges, since she wants to go to school—she’s thinking about studying to be a nurse—I get changed and then head over to East Village. When the cab pulls up, the place is dark. The shop is closed, but Evan convinced Jase to stay late. He also assured me that nobody would be there but Jase—he would make sure of it.
Opening the door that Evan told me would be unlocked, I step inside and lock the door behind me. The bell chimes and Jase walks out. When he sees it’s me, he says, “We’re closed.”
“The door was unlocked,” I say, walking toward him.
“I have a late appointment.”
Walking past him, I head back to his room.
“Did you not hear me?” he asks, walking behind me. “We’re closed. I’m only here for—”
“An appointment,” I say, finishing his sentence. “I know. I’m your appointment.”
Jase’s eyes go wide, but he quickly covers it up. “Great, then I can head home. My daughter is waiting for me.”
“Did you not hear me?” I ask, pulling out my phone and pulling up an image. “I have an appointment.” I turn the phone around so he can see the image. “I want this.”
Jase stares at the picture for several seconds, not saying a word. When he does, his voice is gravelly. “You still have it.”
“I sent it to every email I’ve ever owned, put it in the cloud and every other online storage, to make sure I would never lose it.”
“Why?”
“Because even thinking you slept with Amaya, I still loved you. I was young and immature, and I’m not even sure I knew what it meant to be in love back then, but still, in my own eighteen year old way, I knew I loved you. I loved who I was with you. And every day when I woke up I would look at this image and remind myself what you said to me, to never stop wishing and dreaming.”
I step toward Jase, but he steps back. It’s his turn to be scared, and I need to understand that. “I love you, Jase. I love you and your daughter, and I love what we have together. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. You see me, beneath the makeup and the clothes and the fake smiles. You see the real me.”
“You ran.”
“I did,” I admit, owning up to what I did. “Skyla called me Mom and I got scared. I was so afraid of screwing up, of failing her and you. I didn’t think I was capable of loving Skyla like she deserved.”
“And now?”
“Now, I see that I’m the perfect person to love her because I know what it feels like to not be loved like she deserves.”
“A tattoo is permanent,” he says, nodding to the image on my screen.