Page 131 of Redeeming the Villain

Her weighted stare warms me as I practically read her mind, that I’m no longer the bad guy in hers.

Silently, her hands slides on top of mine, flattened over the tattoo just belowvillain.

“And then …” I choke up, but I force it back down. “This.”

I uncover the butterfly tattoo with my hand. She does the same thing again, gently tracing the outline, sending shivers through me.

“Butterflies were his favorite thing in the world.” I smile as the image of him sitting and staring at one of his framed ones pops into my mind. “He was fascinated … but I wasn’t the most supportive when it came to it. Something I greatly regret.”

Her eyes soften. “Mal.”

That’s the first time she’s ever called me that. Warmth spreads through me.

“I know what I said, the jokes I made. I hate myself for it. But instead of just dwelling on it, I’ve continued his collection, expanding it tenfold, even adding one to my skin.”

A light bulb flashes in her eyes. “Your room …” She winces, lightly smacking her forehead. “That’s why you freaked out on me that day.” She pauses in thought. “The little things are making so much more sense now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know …”

“If you could trust me? I get it, Malik, seriously. I can’t imagine what that was like. I’m surprised we’ve gotten to this point at all. It’s a miracle.” She looks at me with admiration.

Moving back to the Micah-inspired tattoo tour, I turn and show her my back. The two giant wings that cover my shoulders with three numbers between them. Six. Two. Three.

“His birthday. June 23.”

She murmurs kindly, “It’s beautiful, the ways you’ve honored him.”

She runs her finger down the side of my neck unexpectedly. “What does this one mean?”

It takes me a split second to remember what I have there. Two words in Latin.Somnium meum.

“What does it mean?” She brushes the black ink back and forth.

“It was one of the first ones I ever got. For some reason, I was feeling rather hopeful that day and wanted something to remind me of what I was fighting for every day. It translates tomy dream.”

Her lips part, and her eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, I wait for her to elaborate on her shock.

“I had to do a paper in school; maybe you did, too, if you took Mrs. Humphries English class. We had to write an essay about the origin of our name. And in one of the rabbit holes I stumbled down, I found out that Alora meansmy dream.”

Chills run down my back and spine as I repeat the words. “My dream.”

Something about that coincidence seems so …right.

Our paths have always been intertwined in ways we never could have imagined. I’ve never been one to believe in fate; it’s hard to after everything I’ve been through. But maybe, once upon a dream, she’s mine, a part of my story that was always inevitable.

“Can I just hold you right now?” I ask, wanting to feel closer to her.

She nods, and I move instantly, wrapping my body around her as I pull her back into my chest with our heads on the pillows.

With her ear near my lips, I apologize for things I did long ago. “I took a lot of the anger about my brother’s death out on you, and I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, and if I could take it back, I would.”

She nestles into me tighter, warming my heart. “Don’t apologize for who you became in order to survive, Malik. You had to shield yourself from the world at such a young age. I forgive you for who you were back then. You just have to do the same for yourself.”

Tears flow from my eyes again, and I sniffle. She turns around immediately, wiping them away with her thumbs.

“If you want, I’d love to hear some stories about him. If you’re comfortable, of course.” Her bloodshot eyes look into mine with such vulnerability and love.

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