I was almost forty-one years old, and I’d only just found the love of my life after years of strife and loneliness. I wanted to start our life together right this fuckin’ minute. But I’d never been much good with words, and I couldn’t seem to find the right ones to explain to her the magnitude of how I felt. So I’d reverted to action. Somethin’ I knew would mean the fuckin’ world to her as she meant the world to me, ’cause she’d told me so at seventeen. I got her tattooed into my skin forever, right over the heart she owned in my chest.
