Moonlight flows through the window and across her lower back, highlighting the infinity mark tattooed in black ink. It matches the one on my arm perfectly and sometimes I wish I could remember the night we got them, remember what we’d been thinking when we made the permanent decision. What lead up to the moment when we thought, Hey what the hell, let’s go get matching tattoos that mean forever and eternally. What was going through our minds? What was going through Ella’s mind? I lightly trace the curving lines on her back and I feel her shiver beneath my touch.

“Are you awake?” I ask, my fingers wandering lower, to the top of her ass.

She nods her head, her eyes still closed. “I can’t sleep when you’re touching me like that.”

“How about like this?” I roll over to my side and lean down to kiss her lower back. “Does that help?” I ask, suppressing my laughter when she shivers.

“No, it’s worse, but it’s okay. You can keep kissing there if you want to.”

I smile to myself and then place another kiss on her back, sliding my tongue over her skin. She squirms so I do it again, then rest my head on her back, place my hand on her side, and my fingers fold around her ribs.

“Do you remember any of that night at all?” she murmurs against the pillow.

“Any of what night?”

“The night we got the tattoos.”

“I already told you when we woke up on the park bench that I didn’t remember a thing and the memories never came back to me. It’s just one of those kinds of nights that I think will be a blank.”

“Yeah, but I’ve always wondered if you were just telling me that you didn’t remember because you worried that I’d get weird about whatever happened.”

“Well, as much as that sounds like something I’d do, I honestly can’t remember a single thing,” I say. “Other than, one minute we were drinking a lot out in my backyard while a party went on inside and the next thing I knew we were waking up on the park bench, your shoes were missing, and my arm was burning like a motherfucker. I’d seriously like to know how I managed to convince both of us to do it. And how I managed to get you to do something so permanent,” I tell her and she grows quiet, the sound of her breathing mixing with the slow paced song. The longer she remains silent, the more I start to worry. “Ella May?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is high and full of nervousness.

My palm glides down her side to her hips. “Have you been lying about not remembering any of that night?”

She pauses, her body tensing. “No. I’ve already told you a thousand times I can’t remember a thing.”