Page 122 of All In
“Yeah, Mom,” I whispered, reaching for her. “It’s more than enough. It’s everything.”
CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE
They released me from the hospital a week later and for the next month, Theo threw himself into his work, remaking the old Vegas Ink into something entirely his. His vision. His legacy. The one he could keep after the other had been lost.
The ache of losing the baby hung between us, and I knew despite what Theo promised, he was retreating into his armor, rebuilding walls.
He loved me. I felt it in every beat of his heart against mine. It kept me warm when I slept wrapped in his arms. His grasp on me never loosened, not even in deep sleep. Always on guard. Always vigilant. He took on everything, shouldering the burden alone so those he loved didn’t have to.
Early one morning, I woke and the first feeling that hit me—the one Yvonne said held the truth—settled on the still-bare skin of my shoulder. The space that belonged to Teddy, empty and waiting.
I woke him with a kiss. “The shop is done, isn’t?” I asked.
He nodded. “Finished yesterday.”
“I’m going to sing at your reopening,” I said. “Grant and Phoebe said the press release was getting a ton of buzz. You’ll have a huge crowd.”
“Of course,” he said. “You’re so talented, babe. They’ll line up down the block to see you.”
“And you,” I said. “Your art is astonishing. It’s you, your heart and soul.” I traced the tense line of his jaw, wishing I could make the hard edges melt away. “I know what tattoo I want.”
“You do? What is it?”
I sat up, tugged his hand. “Come on. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
My heart swelled with pride as Theo unlocked the door of the shop and I stepped inside. Vegas Ink was no more. Theo had knocked down the wall between it and the nail salon, creating a wide entry. The black-and-white checkered tiles and red walls were gone, replaced by gray hardwood. The entry walls were covered with darker gray wallpaper with a repeating fleur-de-lis pattern. On them were hung large glass displays of tattoo samples, framed in tomato red. An overstuffed vinyl sofa in the same red color sat against the wall beside the reception desk.
I picked up the Magic 8 Ball there gave it a shake. “Has Teddy become a believer in messages from the Other Side?” I watched for the reply and turned it toward him:It is certain.
He smirked. “It is certainthat ball belongs to Vivian.”
I smiled, then tugged his hands. “Show me the rest.”
He took my hand and led me further into the space. The hardwood floors continued to four tattoo stations, each with a black reclining chairs and smaller, matching chairs for the artist. Prints by Ann Harper and Ted Gahl were interspersed on the dark green walls with more tattoo samples displays.
The entire place was elegant but edgy, masculine to reflect its owner, but not intimidating.
“It’s beautiful.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m so proud of you. Have I said that yet?”
“Once or twice.”
His tone was teasing but his smile faded quickly. He led me to his station, and readied a paper and blue ink pen, from his desk.
“So,” he said. “Do you want…” He cleared his throat. “Something to do with the baby? Or maybe Jo—”
“I want your blue butterfly,”
Theo frowned, and his eyes looked away, toward the past. “You mean the blue butterfly from that old story? When Jonah and I were kids?”
“The imaginary butterfly that got away.”
He sat back in his chair. “Why?”
“Because it’s everything you are. You’re strong and brave, and you’d take all the pain if it meant making those you love feel it less. You shoulder that burden by yourself. You put on armor and put up walls. But inside, you have this gentle, loving soul. A goodness running down the core of you, all along that steel strength. I want that on my body. The essence of you. I love you, Teddy. I want your love with me, imbedded in my skin for all the days of my life.”
“Permanent,” Theo whispered.
