“I hope you’re making wishes when you do that.” He turns his head to look at me, already smiling. “I was,” he says. “Don’t worry.” He takes my hand from his shoulder and brings my wrist to his mouth to kiss my tattoo. Then he leads me around to the front of the bench, where I take a seat next to him. “Well, just one wish, actually,” he adds. “Do you think it’ll come true?” I ask. “It did. You appeared.”
