“Oh, it’s a rose.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Why a rose?”
I shift a little so my back is to his front. “Roses symbolize love,” I say sleepily. “The ribs are one of the most painful locations for a tattoo. I got it to remind me that love hurts.”
28
ASHTON
Allie’s wordsbreak my heart. All I can think about is how old she was when she got that tattoo. When did she start building the walls that currently surround her like Fort Knox? When did she decide that she wasn’t worthy of love? That it would only bring her pain. Was it when she was old enough to realize her father was never coming back? Or was it when she watched her mother go from relationship to relationship, coming out with only scars to show for them? My mind wanders back to the night she told me everything. The night I decided to do whatever I could to try to bring her some peace.
“Ashton, it hurts,” she whimpers.
“What hurts?”
“Everything.” She wipes at the tears that slide down her face and drip off her chin. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”
“No,” I say honestly.
“I betrayed her trust.” She’s referring to Emory.
“You did what you had to do.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but from what I overheard…she was being abused and you stepped in. That doesn’t sound like betrayal to me. It sounds like someone who didn’t want to see her friend get hurt.”
“I wish it were that simple,” she scoffs. “These things never are.”
“What makes you say that?”
“History.”
Is she saying thatshewas also in an abusive relationship? I clench my fists involuntarily, sitting up straighter. Panic grips my chest at the thought of a man putting his hands on her.
“Not me,” she says, reading my mind, or maybe my body language. “My mom.”
She stretches her legs out, digging her toes in the cool sand. “She got knocked up when she was eighteen. My dad left when I was two months old. We never saw him again. My mom didn’t start dating again until I was around ten. She met a guy at the supermarket of all places. He sweet-talked her until the cows came home. He didn’t hit her. He found other ways to make her feel small. He insulted her in any way he could think of. She wasn’t skinny enough. She couldn’t cook. She was a dumb slut who got pregnant too young.”
I swallow the lump in my throat as Allie tells her story. Thinking about her having to witness that growing up makes my stomach churn.
“Luckily, he lost interest and was on to the next piece of ass after a year. But the damage was done. My mom’s self-esteem was destroyed. The next guy did hit her. She would try her best to hide the bruises from me, but I knew exactly what was happening. She went from man to man after that. Some of them weren’t terrible. Some of them were.”
“Did they—” I clear my throat. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. After the first one, she tried her best not to bring them around me. They still showed up at our house sometimes. Usually looking for a fight, but they mostly ignored me.”
“I’m so sorry, Allie.”
She waves me away. “Anyway, that’s why I couldn’t let Emory stay in that relationship. I’ve seen it too many times.”
“She’ll forgive you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Then tell her your story.”
“Why? So she can look at me the way you’re looking at me right now?”
