Page 57 of Some Saviors Can Break You

“Right here.” The man handed over a piece of paper. “This what you wanted?”

“Perfect,” he said when he saw the drawing of the branch of cherry blossoms. Turning to Florence, he took hold of her wrist, slid her sweater up her arm, and exposed her stunning tattoo. “This wasn't just something you got to cover up the scar, was it?”

Florence shook her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I did get it to cover the scar, but it was more than that. I wanted something that symbolized how I felt about what happened to me. I researched meanings of flowers because I thought that would be something pretty, and I came across cherry blossoms. They symbolize hope, new beginnings, as in Japan they bloom at the start of a new year. They also symbolize the transient nature of life. Beautiful things pass away, nothing ever lasts forever. That’s how I was feeling back then. I was eighteen, I’d survived something that should have killed me, and I was finally able to escape the life I'd always hated and build something new, something better. I felt like the cherry blossoms symbolized the younger, more innocent me. I lost that, and that scar was the reason why, but it was also the reason why I was still alive. I wanted to incorporate it into the design because that scar made me the person I am today.”

“I saw this the night that we first met, the next day I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I researched what it meant. Even though I didn't know why you’d chosen it, and I didn'tunderstand its significance in your life, I knew it was something important to you.” He skimmed the beautiful image of delicate pink blossoms, Florence’s skin every bit as soft and silky as real cherry blossoms would be. “Mono-no aware, it’s a Japanese saying for the awareness of impermanence. It acknowledges the bittersweet feelings you have of seeing how wonderful life can be and realizing that those moments don’t last forever. We can be both saddened by and appreciative of the idea that life is transient. I wanted to add that to my tattoo because it symbolizes how I feel about losing my family. As deep as the loss hits me I wouldn’t have given up the moments I shared with them for anything. The pain is worth the payoff of the years I spent with my parents and brother.”

Big, round teardrops balanced on Florence’s long lashes, her hands lifted and rested against his chest. “That’s really beautiful, Eli. Underneath all this cocky, laidback exterior you like everyone to see, lies such a big heart. I want to get that saying added to my tattoo. It’s poignant and beautiful in a melancholy sort of way, and it’s something I want to be reminded of moving forward.”

Eli rested his forehead against hers. “You’re something special, you know that? You’ve endured so much, yet you're so beautiful, so strong and resilient, you make me want to be a better person, stronger and more compassionate.” Feathering his lips across hers, Eli kissed her and then straightened and said to the tattooist who was watching them with interest. “Looks like we’re both getting tats after all.”

10:40 P.M.

Where had the evening gone?

It felt like it was just a couple of minutes ago that she’d stepped out of the precinct to find him waiting for her, and yet a glance at her watch told her that four and a half hours had flown by.

This date had been perfect, just her kind of thing, she’d sat and watched while Eli got his tattoo, then had the same Japanese saying added to hers, then they’d eaten burgers and fries in the back of his car as they’d driven back to her place.

Now the date was over, and it was time to say goodnight.

Only she didn't want to.

She didn't want him to go.

Opening up to him this morning had been cathartic in a way she hadn't envisioned. Florence didn't like to talk about herself and the messed up stuff she’d lived through. Nearly dying at only eight years old had been made so much worse by the fact that she had no one but her ten-year-old brother to try to help her deal with the fallout. And what had happened when she was sixteen she had never told a single living soul, just wept, curled up in a ball, on the mattress on the floor that was her bed, before she went to sleep every night.

Having someone know the darkness that had touched her had always seemed terrifying, but somehow, having it be Eli who knew made it okay.

Better than okay, actually.

It had given her a peace that she hadn't felt before because finally—finally—she wasn't alone anymore.

“Million for your thoughts?”

She looked up to see Eli looking down at her, a tender smile on his face. “I think the saying is ‘penny for your thoughts’.”

“I know, but I have to live up to my reputation sometimes.” He winked. “What has you so quiet and lost in thought?”

“Just thinking about you, about us.” Worry creased his brow. “These worry lines belie your cocky reputation,” she teased, reaching up to smooth the lines away. “You don’t need to be all concerned, I wasn't thinking anything bad, I was just thinking that I want you to come upstairs with me when we get to my apartment.”

“Florence, we don’t have to do anything. I didn't come up with the tattoo idea to try to impress you and get you into bed, I did it because I wanted to, because it made me feel closer to you, like I was sharing in your past and the journey it’s taken you on.”

“Shh.” She pressed her finger to his lips to silence him, and then replaced her finger with her lips. “I want you to come up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to treat me like a china doll because you know about what happened to me?” She arched a challenging brow. She didn't want Eli knowing that she was a victim of sexual assault to change how he saw her. “Because before you knew about that you were all for the two of us having sex.”

“You're not a china doll, but you are mine, and I worry about you.”

“I'm yours?” Her arched brow reached almost to her hairline.

“Not in a possession kind of way.” He chuckled. “You're mine because I care about you, and I'm never letting you go. That’s why I have this inked on my skin.” He held up his arm where a white bandage covered the new tattoo. “It’s not a male thing, I'm yours too,” he added, brushing his lips across hers.

Florence caught his face between her hands when he would have ended the kiss and deepened it. That he wanted to join her on her ongoing journey to put what she’d been through behind her only made him more attractive. She was falling for him, hard and fast, and she was done fighting it.

She was finally there, in that place she thought she'd never arrive at, she was ready to move on.

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