He documents all our moments that are important to us. Every single place he's taken me that’s brought us closer together, he’s had inked onto his body forever. I still remember the day he came home with his arm bandaged in white gauze and plastic wrap. He hadn't told me he was getting it done and wanted to surprise me. Surprise was an understatement. James permanently inked the arm he was saving for only us. I've been wanting to surprise him with a tattoo of my own, I just haven't figured out what I want to do yet. I want it to mean something to the both of us the way his do.

I pick up his wrist and kiss the place where his pulse is. I gaze at it with softness, then thread his fingers with mine. My thumb caresses my favorite inked moment by far—the day he told me he loved me for the first time. We weren't anywhere romantic, or had a special trip planned. In fact, we were right in the middle of Manhattan getting Chinese food in the dead heat one summer evening when he said it. Our order hadn't been ready for pick up yet, so we'd been standing on the busy street with his back to the wall and me in his arms taking in the perfect Instagram-worthy sunset. The fiery amber ball burned between the skyscrapers as it descended, illuminating the buildings with a breathtaking glow. This wasn't just an ordinary sunset anyone could see as they walked through the concrete jungle. I'd remarked on how incredible it was and that I'd never seen the sun between the buildings like that before, how it made one appreciative of how beautiful life really is. James told me it was actually Manhattanhenge, and it's when the sun aligns with the city's street grid to produce—and fit—the perfect setting sun only four days out of the year. It was larger than life, and the heat flowing around the outer rim could be seen when "I love you" came out of James's mouth. It was so natural and just right, and it ended up being the first tattoo he got for us—a sun that overlooks his map. I glance at the sun inked in warm hues of orange and red over his pulse and smile softly at the memories I hold so dear behind it.

My knee nudges his erecting cock. "James, I love that brownstone. I love being there with you, I love walking up the street to our home and taking in the flowery landscape that people don't typically associate with living in the city. If you want to sell it, then we'll sell it and buy a new home. I want what you want. But don't think for one second that it bothers me you had it before I came back into your life." I pause, an idea springing to mind. "What if we get rid of everything your decorator bought, and we go shopping together. We'll create our own little oasis. If you want to redo the whole damn unit and tear everything out, we can do that too, but I'm happy there and I really love it."