I’m having a hard time keeping my mouth shut. I’m relieved when Bethany nods, then follows him into the back.
She settles into the chair, then takes off her shirt and hands it to me. Her bra is plain; thank fuck her breasts are high above the spot she indicates for the tattoo. Her eyes plead as she looks up at me. I take a deep breath and keep my mouth shut, taking her hand in mine.
“Okay, if you don’t mind since it’s a simple one I’ve done before, I’m going to freehand it. Would you like a color for the outside of the heart?”
“Black is good.”
“And how about the small heart inside? Would you like me to color it in?”
“Yes, please. Blue.”
“Blue it is.”
It’s clicking now—he’s done this tattoo before. This is for the baby. Bethany moans as Max applies the needle. “Sonofabitch it hurts. How did you have your whole arm done? Are you some weirdo into pain or something? Ow. I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. Dante, stop laughing.”
“I’m not laughing.” I am a little but mainly it’s from sheer happiness and relief at hearing Bethany more like she was before the miscarriage.
“Yes, you are. Okay, it doesn’t have to be a big heart, it can be little.” Max’s eyes meet mine. “You both can’t laugh. Oh god, I changed my mind. I don’t want a tattoo. What are you doing? Don’t stop.”
I can’t hold in the laughter anymore. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to make you sorry. Ow. Is it over yet?”
“Bethany, sweetheart, you don’t have to do this.” Max has finally finished the larger heart. He rubs the ink away as he bites on his lip not to laugh.
“No, I do. I’m already starting not to hurt as much when I think of the baby. I’m already wondering if we should try and have another baby. A tiny part of me wished last night I could never think of it ever again. And I don’t want to be sad any more. I don’t want to hurt any more. And I don’t want to make you miserable any more either. I’m tired of crying. So I’m going to get this tattoo so I don’t forget. Because as much as it hurt losing the baby, I’m so grateful for everything it gave me. You proposing, us getting married now and not wasting time. All those amazing things you did and still do for me every day. This won’t be the last time I cry; I’m sure there will be other times in the future, but this is closing the chapter on what happened so we can move on to the next. I don’t want to get married being miserable with this hanging over us. It’s not how I want us to start our lives together.” Her eyes are soft green, filled with hope and love. Seeing it, the fear that’s been weighing me down is floating up and away.
Max pushes away from Bethany with a smile. “Done.”
“Done?” Bethany looks down in surprise. “I love it. It looks great. It’s exactly what I wanted.”
I help Bethany out of the chair. Max applies the bandage to keep it clear of anything that could irritate it.
“You next?” Max asks.
“Yeah, same thing, same place.”
“You don’t have to, Dante.” Concern creases her brow. I run a finger over them, no more of those.
“I know. I want to. I agree with you, sweetheart. I’m ready to start new but I don’t want to forget either.”
Her hand goes into mine. “Does it really not hurt you at all? Not even a little?”
I laugh as I pull her close. “Maybe a little.” It doesn’t, but I won’t tell her that.
***
Dante
At home, Bethany and I lie wrapped up in each other on the couch. As Maude and Mittens make a bed of my legs, I lay my head on hers.
“What if I can’t get pregnant? Or what if do get pregnant and I lose the baby again? What if we don’t have kids?”
I’ve been waiting for this question since the therapy session with Jennifer. After I carried Bethany home and put her to bed, Jennifer I talked for over an hour about all the stuff Bethany talked about, her fears of me growing to hate her for losing the baby, how she felt like she wasn’t a real woman because she lost the baby. All of those things alone were hard to hear, but then for Jennifer to call and tell me there were a lot more things Bethany didn’t even share that would come later. Going through them, considering the way I really felt and how best to say it to Bethany, I wanted badly to drink myself into oblivion.
Running a finger down her cheek, I give my honest answer. “There are a lot of kids in the system who need families. If you’re open to adopting so am I. And if you aren’t, that’s okay too. We can be pet parents and spoil our nieces and nephews rotten, then hand them back to their parents. I’m okay with not having kids; I’m not okay with not having you. I love you for you, for the way you don’t let me get away with shit, the way you have an answer for everything I say, for the way your eyes go green when I’m inside you, the way your body fits mine to perfection. Everything else is a bonus. I told you, I can’t let you go—it’s like giving up a part of me.”
“Are you sure? Even if I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to try again.”