She rolls her eyes at herself and then sits up, swinging her leg over me so she’s straddling my lap and her nipples brush against my bare chest. “We were drunk and you dared me to kiss you so I did. And then I stupidly suggested that it would be super funny if we did something to mark the moment and then decided it should be tattoos.”

“And I just willingly went with you?” I ask, not with skepticism because it does sound like something I’d do.

She nods as her palms glide up my shoulders and then she links her arms around the back of my neck, her soft nipples grazing my chest. “You took me over to Jason’s house and asked him to put infinity marks on us.”

“And then what?” I inquire, my fingers finding her waist.

She shrugs. “And then that’s where things get a little hazy.”

I consider what she said and it makes me happy. “So this entire time you were the reason I have this on me.” I raise my arm with the infinity mark on it.

She sketches it with her finger. “Does it make you mad?”

“No, it kind of makes me very, very happy.”

“Why?”

“Because it proves that you might have loved me all along.”

She wets her lips with her tongue and then leans into me, so close that when she blinks, her eyelashes brush against mine. “Even though I didn’t know it at the time,” she whispers against my lips, “I think you’re right and I’m glad I finally figured it out.”

Chapter 9

Ella

Even though I can feel it in my bones that I should stop, the next morning I read some more of my mother’s journal. The part I’m reading was written a little before her wedding and she doesn’t seem happy about it at all. She seems depressed and sad and everything a soon-to-be wife shouldn’t be.

I’m not sure I can do it. Go down to the courthouse and make it official. I’d rather claw my eyes out. If my mother had her way, I wouldn’t go through with it. She says Raymond is no good, that he’ll ruin my life, and that I’m not fit to be a mother or a wife right now especially with what I’ve been going through… the drastic mood swings, the ups and downs. She’s probably right, but then again I feel like my life is already ruined, whether I’m married and a mother or not. Besides, I really do think I might love Raymond. Maybe. But sometimes the mere thought of taking another breath seems like the biggest chore in the world. I wish I could stop breathing. I wonder if it’s possible for someone to be able to hold their breath long enough to die.

Maybe I should try.