Ash
"Ow!" I yell, causing Sunday to jerk back in fear. "Why are you so heavy-handed?"
She raises a brow as she sets my machine on the tray. "You wanna see heavy-handed? Because I'll show it to you. Now, are you going to sit there and shut up, or am I strapping you down?"
"I thought this was supposed to be romantic," I whine as Atlas laughs while bouncing his son, Howie, around as Janie, hot with baby fever, keeps trying to steal him.
"She's literally drawing a line, dude. How bad can it be?" I scoff at my friend.
"She's digging into my bon– OW! My god, are you getting me back for something?" I cry and watch her snicker.
"No, but that would be a good idea," she muses, and I roll my eyes and shake my head. The last month has been a whirlwind, to say the least.
After I asked her to marry me, we instantly got to moving. Sunday, Wade, and Alice got into our new house and in a matter of days, the house was turned into a home. However, there was a hiccup on the night of the engagement. Shortly before I was about to christen our new home with Sunday, Atlas came rushing in, screaming that Ren was in labor. Sunday and I ran over and had to help deliver Howard. Yes, deliver. Apparently, Ren had been in labor the entire day but was passing it off as pre-labor and not something to be worried about at that time. By the time we arrived, Howard was ready to make his big debut. Thankfully, Howard wasn't the first baby I'd had to deliver, and by the time the ambulance arrived, the small baby was nestled comfortably on Ren's chest.
Ren's mother was less than thrilled that an ex-paramedic turned tattoo artist delivered her first grandchild, but she quickly got over it and even shook my hand the next day when we came to see the new little man.
Howard is adorable and has caused all the women in our group to instantly go into baby mode, which Fox is terrified of. He was saying something about Janie being bad enough with their cat, Winston. I've noticed how Sunday looks at the baby and accepted that it's only a matter of time before she tells me she's ready. I'm okay with it, which shocked me at first. A wife and kids were never something I thought I would have, so I refused to allow myself to want it. But here I am, engaged to this amazing woman with a terrific kid, and they want me.
"Alright, you big baby," Sunday says as she sets the machine down and cleans off my finger.
"Thank god," I groan as she flips me off.
"Why are tattoo artists the worst at getting tattoos?" She laughs and I look down at my little finger with the red line wrapped around it. My red string that matches the one on Sunday's little finger. Our red strings of fate, symbolizing that no matter what—time, distance or circumstances—we are connected to each other, now and always.
I walk up to my girl and wrap my hand around her waist, kissing her tanned shoulder.
"I love you, sunshine." She spins around in my arms and stares up at me with all the love and happiness in the world, and I feel at home.
"I love you too, charming."
The End