“Leaving your mark on everything,” she whispers. “It’s already hard enough with your fingerprints all over me, every loop and ridge tattooed on my skin, a constant in my life even when you’re not, but now you’re just making it unbearable, Chris. The next time you leave, I won’t—” Her bottom lip quivers and every tremor of her flesh is like the crack of a whip. Lashings that are all the more painful because of their biting accuracy tear my skin open, so I’m bleeding right along with her. “All I’ll have are the things you gave me and the ruined memories. A sad collection of reminders of you.”
