“Yes,” he says. “I got it for you.” Stunned doesn’t begin to describe me. “But…when?” He drops his head again and breathes against the skin of my neck and ear. “The week after we broke up. Or more specifically—the day after you saw me kiss that woman outside my apartment.” “Why? Especially after the way I hurt you? Why would you get my initial?” “Because regardless of how it ended, I needed a way to prove it existed.” He says the words just above my mouth. “I was scared of forgetting what we had. The tattoo was a way to admit to myself that you were important to me and would always be a part
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