I was robbed of everything that had ever mattered because of my father’s choices. Throughout my entire life, my childhood, my teenage years, even my adult years I had never had the normalcy others had. I couldn’t have friends over and the few that did were forbidden to be around me after Val died. I had one beautiful thing, and that was Anthony’s love but the mob took that too. Our beautiful baby that never had a chance, ripped from me. The only thing I had left was my son, he was the only thing not tainted by my father’s business.
I looked at him sadly, surrendering the fight I had been battling for over a decade, the fight for everything we meant to each other, the fight for us. He saw the light fade from my eyes and gave me a slight nod.
“Let’s sacrifice this thing of ours for that boy of yours,” he whispered, as we stared into each other’s eyes. I couldn’t look at him anymore, I couldn’t look into his eyes and see how much he was suffering, how much he was sacrificing for my son.
I dropped my face into my hands and sobbed uncontrollably. How was I going to forget him? Forget every kiss, every touch, every goddamn I love you?
I felt his arms envelope me as he pulled me against his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of my head and just held onto me as I cried. I wondered for a moment if I’d ever again feel as safe as I did whenever his arms wrapped around me.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that, him holding me, me crying into his chest. It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or hours but when it ended, it felt as if it was too short a period. He pulled back, his hands cradling my face and stared at me as if he was memorizing every single feature of mine. His thumb brushed along my lip, tracing back and forth while he battled his conscience and his heart. In the end, his heart won because his mouth fell over mine in the most bittersweet kiss he ever placed on me.
I knew all those years ago nothing would come close to making me feel the way I did whenever Anthony kissed me. Even when he was kissing me goodbye he made me feel like he cherished me. I believed him when he said he’d love me forever, his actions speaking louder than his words. I hope he knew I felt the same way.
I angled my head, giving him better access to devour my mouth. The thing about kissing someone goodbye is you don’t get a second chance to do it right. In that moment you have to put everything into one kiss and that’s exactly what we did. The last several years, everything we had gone through, everything we had felt for one another entangled in this kiss.
I savored his taste. I memorized the way his teeth felt scraping against my raw lips, the gentle lap his tongue took across them to soothe the sting. I didn’t want him to take away the sting, wishing I would always feel the burning sensation that prickled against my sensitive flesh as a reminder of my Anthony.
His mouth left mine and kept going back to press butterfly kisses against my lips before dropping his hands to my shoulders and taking a retreating step backwards. I swallowed as I dared to meet his gaze.
“Let me grab a shirt and I’ll walk you out,” he said gruffly. I nodded wiping my cheeks with the sleeves of my sweater. He turned around to walk into his bedroom and that’s when I saw the ink taking up his entire back
The shocked gasp that escaped my mouth caused him to look over his shoulder at me. The instant he saw my face realization set into his features and he closed his eyes.
“Turn around,” I demanded, softly.
He sighed, his shoulders went lax, and he dropped his head. I took a step closer and stared in awe at the beautiful artwork covering his skin. There were beautiful clouds drawn across his shoulder blades all of them shaded in hues of gray and blue, almost matching his eyes. Through the clouds there are rays that shoot down the center of his back like rays of an eternal light. The year two thousand five looks as though the rays illuminate the numbers. My eyes travel down to the center of his back where there is the letter A written in a familiar handwriting. My first thought is that my eyes are playing tricks on me but when I take a closer look there is no denying it. The A inked onto his skin is a replica of the A I scribe every time I sign my name. Just when I thought there were no tears left to cry, I feel my eyes fill with water as realization dawns on me. I push back the tears and force myself to continue my perusal of the intricate tattoo he has forever etched into his flesh. There are flames that begin just beneath the waistband of his sweat pants and travel wildly, vibrant oranges, yellows and reds, all depicting an inferno as they make their way to the A. The year two thousand ten scribed between the flames of hell. I reach out and trace the A with my index finger, feeling him flinch at my touch. He gathers his bearings and remains completely still as my fingertip continues to trace the A. My eyes fixate on the two years, two thousand five was the year it all began for us, and two thousand ten was the year it ended.
He must’ve been reading my mind because he turned around shielding his tattoo from me as he gazed in to my eyes.
“My heaven and my hell,” he whispered roughly, explaining the sentiment behind the ink that forever marks his skin. I stare at him for a moment, stripped of any words. What do you say to that? To the man telling you to forget he exists only to discover he takes a piece of you with him wherever he goes.
You say nothing because nothing you could ever say would be enough.