Page 80 of Tattoo My Heart
“Who messed up?”
I push away from the floral arrangement because I just can’t focus on it anymore.
“We both did.”
My voice comes out soft, but it echoes around the room, or maybe just inside my head. Either way, that’s the reality of it.
“Well, the fact that you admit you had a part in it as well is a great start.” Nancy sounds way to cheery for my taste, and it’s getting on my nerves.
“How so?”
“Normally,” she shrugs, eyes on the project she’s working on, “one party is always blaming the other. It never fails. But,” she gives me a pointed look over her glasses, “since you admit that you had a part in whatever is going on between you two, the battle is half won.”
“You think?”
Her words are giving me more hope than I had before, and I am scared. I don’t want to mess anything up more than it is.
“Has he apologized to you for his part?”
“He…” I stop and think back on it, guilt eating at me all of a sudden. “He tried. I sort of… cut him off and wouldn’t let him speak.”
Nancy takes a moment to stare at me again.
“Did you apologize to him?”
“No.”
Now I feel like she is judging me. I want to run away from this room and hide somewhere.
“That’s okay, honey.” She gives me a kind and understanding smile. “You kids have the emotional maturity of a sixth grader. And it’ll stay that way all the way into your forties. Maybe even later, depends on the person.”
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling, a smile escaping in the corner of my mouth.
“That’s not very good reassurance, Nancy,” I tease her. “What am I supposed to do now?”
With a heavy sigh, Nancy drops the arrangement she’s working on and turns to look at me.
“The answer is obvious, but it’s probably still that emotional maturity I was talking about that’s the problem.” She eyeballs me until I start squirming nervously in place. “You need to apologize, girl,” she spells it out for me. “Especially since he already did so,” she points out.
I look around us in a state of panic, wondering if I should leave right now. If I wait, the traffic will be horrendous.
“I’ll stay late and finish here,” Nancy assures me, amusement lacing the tone of her voice.
I jump to hug her. “You’re the best. I’m forever in your debt.”
“I want a full update,” she calls after me when I am almost at the door.
I giggle like a little girl all the way to my car. When I drop in the driver’s seat, I catch my own reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, and I have zero makeup on. I wonder if I should run home first. I could change and make myself more presentable. But then, the traffic situation would once again be in my way.
“Eh, he won’t care,” I decide and start the engine.
The next forty-five minutes are complete torture. The traffic is light when compared to rush hour, but still a hindrance considering what I’m trying to do.
“Oh, come on,” I yell at no one in particular when the light changes to red once again.
As I get closer to the address I entered into the GPS, I realize that the area in which Cal’s tattoo shop is located is quite nice, fancy even. It doesn’t even make sense why they’d want a tattoo shop here.
I let out a sigh of relief when I pull into the parking lot and see the sign for the shop. It is elegant and classy, at total odds with what I was expecting to find.
