“What do you usually do on Christmas Day?” I asked.

I could see him shrug in my peripheral vision. “Not much. Sometimes we stay at Cassie’s and have brunch in the morning. Mostly we just sit around and get shitfaced. Usually I’m too hammered to drive my ass home and I have to stay another night.”

I read between the lines. The holidays at Cassie’s were a way for the people who cared about him to keep an eye on him.

“We could have gone back there today. We still can, if you want to.” I didn’t want to take him away from the people who cared so much about him.

“Nah. As selfish as it is, I want you to myself today. Besides, if we end up going somewhere for New Year’s with everyone else, we won’t get much time alone.”

“We need to take your car to the body shop.” I felt bad about the damage to the hood.

“I have a guy I deal with. He can fix her up no problem.”

“That means we have to take my car if we go on a road trip.”

Hayden made a face. “I guess. I’d rather drive your car than the douche mobile.”

“I’m selling the BMW,” I replied, my focus on his tapping foot.

“I can help with that,” he said quickly, apparently as eager to get rid of it as I was.

“That would be good.” I was done taking care of everything on my own.

“We’ll get on it next week.”

“The sooner the better.”

Hayden lifted the needle from my skin and wiped my shoulder with a damp cloth. “Is it because of what you found in there?”

“That’s part of it.” Every time I looked at the car now, I recalled what Trey had said while I was in Arden Hills. Even if it was said out of spite, I’d never know the truth and I didn’t want the lingering reminder.

“What are your other reasons for selling it?”

“You’re not a fan of the car.” Hayden loathed the BMW, and it wasn’t just because he believed they belonged to pretentious jerk-offs.

“You don’t have to get rid of it because I don’t like it.”

“Connor and I took a break during the last semester of my undergrad,” I blurted.

The buzz of the tattoo machine ceased. “You broke up?”

“For a while.”

This was one thing I hadn’t talked about; not with my girlfriends or my mom. I’d made the decision and pretended it was no big deal. In reality, it had been painful. I’d hated the separation, mostly because I was scared of the unknown.

“Did you date other people?” His voice had an edge.

“A bit. Mostly, I just needed space. Connor backed out of a trip home because he was overloaded with work. He got shitty about it. His program was rigorous and so was mine. I couldn’t afford the distraction. The added stress was affecting my marks, and the only way I could manage tuition at Northwestern was with a scholarship, so I suggested we take some time off from each other.”

“And he was okay with that?” The tattoo machine started up again, thankfully. I needed Hayden’s focus away from my face.

“No, not at all. It became this huge fight. He hung up on me and I didn’t call him back. I figured when he calmed down, he’d understand my logic and see it made sense.” That hadn’t been the case.

“So you worked it out?”

“Eventually. When Connor got mad, he was stubborn and impossible to reason with. I knew he’d call when he was ready.”

“How long did that take?”

“A month.” It had seemed like forever then; now it was just a scene in a life I felt completely disconnected from. I’d put all my energy and focus into my studies and my friends during that time, determined not to fixate on Connor’s silence. It hadn’t worked all that well.

“And then you got back together?” Hayden asked.

“No. It was another month before that happened.”

“I’d go fucking mental without you for that long.”

I thought of those weeks without Hayden while I was in Arden Hills. It had been indescribably painful. The month without Connor had been hard, but I was used to the distance since he’d been at Cornell the entire time we were dating. His anger and my fear had been the hardest part to deal with.

“I thought we’d work things out when we were both ready. I was so naïve. It never occurred to me he was sleeping with everything with a pulse during that time.”

Hayden looked appalled. “That’s what he told you?”

“No. Trey did.”

Hayden turned off the tattoo machine and set it down on the tray. His gloves came off next.

“You don’t have to stop.”

Even I could hear the waver in my voice. I didn’t want to cry over this, but the uncertainties I’d been holding on to made it hard to keep back the tears.

“Tenley, you can’t believe anything that asshole says.”

“He could be right, though. Even when Connor finally called, it wasn’t the same between us. He was so worried I was going to taint myself by sleeping around. I couldn’t figure out why he was so paranoid about it, but it makes sense if he was doing exactly that.”

“That’s just speculation. Fears fed by the bullshit Trey spews to keep you under his thumb.”

“Maybe.” I could never be sure, though. “I was still on the fence about getting back together until Connor showed up at my convocation. Afterward, he took me away for the weekend and proposed. Everything happened so fast from there. We planned the wedding in less than six months.”

“Which is another reason you have to question whether what Trey said happened. Why would he propose if he wanted to run around and bang skanks?”

“To stake a claim?”

Hayden sighed and pulled me into a sitting position. Despite my state of undress his eyes stayed on mine. “Don’t do this to yourself. I know how easy it is to spin worst-case scenarios.”

“I’ll never know the truth,” I whispered.

“Did it ever occur to you that Trey might have planted those condoms? It’s definitely something he’d do.”

“It’s possible,” I said hesitantly. “But what if what Trey said is true, and all that time I was living a lie? I keep thinking that if things had been different, maybe my family would be alive. I still would have come to Chicago for my master’s. Maybe I would have met you anyway.”

“There are a million possibilities. You could let them consume you for the rest of your life. It’s what I’ve been doing for the past seven years, and it hasn’t done me any good. You have to let it go, Tenley.”

“I don’t know how.”

He cupped my cheek in his palm. His sad understanding touched that place inside my heart reserved for him alone. “I know it’s not easy. But we can’t resurrect the dead to find out the truth.”

Hayden was right. Knowing wouldn’t change the past. Letting go was the only way.

And I didn’t need the answers because the person I loved and wanted was sitting right in front of me. Hayden was my present and my future.

The next morning I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with my robe hanging off my shoulders, peering at my freshly cleaned tattoo.

“You’re going to get a neck crick if you keep that up.” Hayden stepped beside me with a towel slung low around his hips. Water beaded on his chest from the shower, and his hair was slicked back from his forehead. When it wasn’t hanging in his eyes, he looked like a ’50s icon.

“I can’t help it. It’s beautiful.” The addition of color to the top of the wings was incredible. Even though the tattoo was still a little red around the edges, the parts that had been shaded were vividly three-dimensional now.

He kissed my shoulder, right beside the tip of the wing. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it. I can’t wait to get back in your chair for another session.”

“Me, neither.” He nipped at the spot his lips had been, then stepped away.

Unlike with some of our previous sessions, I hadn’t broken down after yesterday’s. The tattoo was no longer about punishment for mistakes. Instead, our time in the shop had helped heal some of the wounds I’d created by going to Arden Hills. The intimacy of it made me feel closer to him. We both needed the connection, especially after the past couple of days.

Hayden was anxious today about the storage unit, and I was nervous for him. I wanted him to find what he was looking for, so he could get the answers he needed. He’d been too preoccupied to sleep well last night. I’d woken several times to find him wrapped around me, his hand splayed out on my sternum.

He opened the medicine cabinet and got out his shaving kit. First came the straight-blade razor, next the little bowl and the brush he used to work the shaving lotion into a lather. I pulled my robe over my shoulders, the lavender satin rough against the fresh ink. I knotted it at the waist and hopped up on the counter, crossing my legs. I found watching Hayden shave undeniably sexy, particularly since he used such an old-school method.

“Don’t you have an electric razor? Wouldn’t it be easier?” I’d seen the kit under the counter when I once went in search of cleaning supplies.

Hayden looked at me as if I had two heads. “That’s for cutting my hair, not shaving my face. Your sensitive skin would be chafed to hell otherwise.”

“So this is for my benefit.” I gestured to the collection of items on the counter.

“I would consider it mutually beneficial.” He leaned over the sink, his hair falling in his face as he splashed with water. He ran his wet hands through his hair to keep it off his forehead, but it had gotten so long it had become a constant battle he couldn’t win.

“Speaking of haircuts, how handy are you with a pair of scissors?” he asked.

“Okay, I guess. I used to trim my dad’s hair pretty regularly.”

“Yeah?”

“He had a military cut. It wasn’t like it was a challenge.” Switching out a number four for the fade-out was easy.