It was the ink that gave him away.
“I was lost,” Marcus continued. “Didn’t cry at the funeral. Didn’t eat for three days. Just walked around with this thing in my chest—hot, sharp, like swallowed glass. Then one night, I’m in my boy’s Civic, and ‘Put It On Me’ comes on. You remember that one?” ja rule pain is love tattoo
“Then my daughter was born,” Marcus said quietly. “She came out screaming, red-faced, perfect. And I held her, and I felt this… ocean . Not pain. Something else. Something warm and terrifying and good. And I realized—this is love. Not the knife. The bandage.” It was the ink that gave him away
I stopped folding.
“For ten years, I believed it,” he said. “Every bad relationship I stayed in too long. Every friend who used me. Every night I drank until I couldn’t feel my face. I’d look at this tattoo and think, See? You’re doing it right. You’re hurting. So you must love hard. ” Didn’t eat for three days