Inseparable

by Siobhan Davis

“Lina, I’m sorry you’re hurt. You’re the last person I want to upset, but I need to do this for me. I need to… find who I really am, and I can’t do that here under Dad’s constant shadow. I have to break free.”

“You have no idea how much your texts meant to me during that time, Ange.” He grips my hand tighter. “I wanted to text you back, so badly, but I was only allowed my phone for one hour a week, and my counselor wanted me to cut all contact with the outside world to aid my recovery. I didn’t even speak to Jim, not until the end, when he came in for a few sessions.” He presses his forehead to mine. “They had this really nice sunroom at the rear of the facility, and every Sunday when I was given my cell, I’d curl up on one of the couches and read through all your texts. To know you hadn’t forgotten me, that you were still thinking of me”—he lowers his voice—“that you loved me”—his voice cracks, and he reels me into his arms—“it meant everything to me, Ange. Everything.”

“I’m going to fight him for you this time. He knows how I feel about you, and he didn’t hold back in taking what was mine.” He climbs to his feet. “I know you want to talk to him properly, and I can respect that. If you don’t want me to kiss you again, I won’t. But when he’s back, when it’s an even playing field, I’m going to fight with everything I’ve got. You belong with me. You always have, and I’m not giving up this time.”

I’ve loved you forever, Ange. It’s always been you. Only you.” He smooths my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “And I didn’t realize you felt the same way until it was too late.”

“Loving you means I stick by your side even when we’ve both hit our lowest points. Loving you means I understand that you need time to come to terms with this and being selfless enough to give it to you.” He kisses me softly. “I’m leaving now, but it’s not goodbye. This is me giving you your space.” He stops in the doorway. “Take as much time as you need. I’m going nowhere.”

“Infinity, Ange. Our bond may be broken, our awesome-threesome connection may be gone, but we’re still here, and while there is air in my lungs, I will continue fighting for the both of us.”

Keeping a grip on my hand, she moves aside, leaning up to kiss Devin on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing my little girl home to me. This is the best Christmas present ever.”

“I told you, you were in here, and this tattoo let everyone else know it too. No one else has ever owned a piece of my heart. It’s always been yours.”

“The bond of true friendship never dies. Always in our hearts.”

When Ayden died, and I left, I viewed the tattoo in a different light. Those tiny, looping fine lines Devin had drawn, the ones I had once felt were intricately interwoven into every facet of our lives, looked delicate and feeble and not strong enough to sustain pressure. Now, I look at the symbol as proof that the lines may bend and shake, may quiver and falter, may even rip and tear, but they grow back, stronger and firmer and more powerful than before. Because the bond of true friendship does outlast time.