Skip to content 
“What’s up, Marla?” Ellie asked. “You need help with the cake?”
I needed to see the full tattoo.
“Uh…” I scanned the kitchen. I pointed toward the shelf over the refrigerator. “Can you grab that box for me? I… hurt my back a little. I can’t reach it.”
“Ouch! When did you hurt yourself?” She glanced at me over her shoulder as she moved toward the fridge.
“Preparing for the party. It’s not bad, I just don’t want to make it worse.”
She stepped up on her toes, stretching her arms overhead.
Her shirt lifted. It was enough to show me all I needed to see.
“Can you grab that box for me?”
A fine-line black ink portrait of a man with a dimpled smile, almond-shaped eyes, a strong jawline, and an aquiline nose. It was Brad. My husband’s face was tattooed on my best friend’s body like a private shrine.
I couldn’t stop staring at it.
Behind me, from outside, people cheered.
“We’re ready for cake!” someone shouted.
Ellie got the box down and turned around.
Brad’s voice called from outside, warm and easy. “Babe? You okay in there?”
My husband’s face was tattooed on my best friend’s body.
I closed my eyes.
That was the moment when women like me usually swallowed disaster to protect the reputation of their families. I thought of all the years I had done exactly that.
When Brad forgot birthdays and anniversaries, or when he disappeared into work or golf. When Ellie canceled on me at the last minute.
When I convinced myself that little odd moments meant nothing because the alternative was uglier.
That was the moment when women like me usually swallowed disaster.
Then I thought of Will. Aunt Ellie has Dad.
He had said it like he was telling me something fun.
I opened my eyes. I knew what I needed to do now.
Ellie was only too happy to carry Brad’s birthday cake out for me. I stayed a step behind her as she placed it on the center table. She and Brad exchanged smiles. I tried not to throw up.
Everyone gathered around and brought out their phones.