“Who the hell is Griffin? Let me guess, you invited a total stranger to your wedding and not your best friend?” Her voice became shriller with each question.
“No. He didn’t go to the wedding,” I said, sucking in a breath of air.
Travis sighed and shifted nervously in his chair, squeezing my hand.
“I’m supposed to do that to you, remember?” I said, smiling up at him through the pain.
“Sorry. I don’t think I can take this,” he said, his voice thick with distress. He relaxed his hand, looking to Griffin.
“Hurry up, would ya?”
Griffin shook his head. “Covered in tats and can’t take your girlfriend getting a simple script. I’ll be finished in a minute, Mate.”
Travis’s frown deepened. “Wife. She’s my wife.”
America gasped once the conversation processed in her mind. “You’re getting a tattoo? What is going on with you, Abby? Did you breathe toxic fumes in that fire?”
I looked down at my stomach, to the smeared black mess just to the inside of my hipbone and smiled. “Trav has my name on his wrist.” I sucked in another breath when the buzzing continued. Griffin wiped ink from my skin and began again. I spoke through my teeth, “We’re married. I wanted something, too.”
Travis shook his head. “You didn’t have to.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t start with me. We discussed this.”
America laughed once. “You’ve gone crazy. I’m admitting you to the asylum when you get home.” Her voice was still piercing and exasperated.
“It’s not that crazy. We love each other. We have been practically living together on and off all year. Why not?”
“Because you’re nineteen, you idiot! Because you ran off and didn’t tell anyone, and because I’m not there!” she cried.
“I’m sorry, Mare, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“I don’t know if I want to see you tomorrow! I don’t think I want to see Travis ever again!” she sneered.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mare. You know you want to see my ring.”
“And your tat,” she said, a smile in her voice.
I clicked the phone shut, handing it to Travis. The buzzing resumed again, and my attention focused on the burning sensation followed by the sweet second of relief as he wiped the excess ink away. Travis shoved my phone in his pocket, gripping my hand with both of his, leaning down to touch his forehead to mine.
· · ·
“Did you freak out this much when you got your tattoos?” I asked him, smiling at the apprehensive expression on his face.
He shifted, seeming to feel my pain a thousand times more than I. “Uh … no. This is different. This is much, much worse.”
“Done!” Griffin said with as much relief in his voice as was on Travis’s face.
I let my head fall back against the chair. “Thank God!”
“Thank God!” Travis sighed, patting my hand.
I looked down at the beautiful black lines on my red and angry skin:
Mrs. Maddox
“Wow,” I said, rising up on my elbows to get a better look.
Travis’s frown instantly turned into a triumphant smile. “It’s beautiful.”