“What does that mean?”
I looked directly at Dana.
“Would you like to show everyone your new tattoo?”
Her hand immediately covered her side.
That movement said more than any confession could have.
Someone whispered, “What tattoo?”
Dana shook her head.
“Rachel, please.”
Mark stepped forward.
“This isn’t the place.”
I stared at him.
That sentence almost made me laugh.
Not the place.
My home.
His birthday.
Our family.
Our friends.
Our child.
Apparently, it had been the perfect place for betrayal.
Just not for consequences.
I turned toward the guests.
“My son came inside about twenty minutes ago and told me that his daddy was under Aunt Dana’s shirt.”
Several people looked toward Tyler.
He was happily eating frosting from the edge of a paper plate.
“He saw a tattoo on her ribs,” I continued. “A portrait of Mark.”
Mark’s mother stared at Dana.
“You have my son tattooed on your body?”
Dana’s eyes filled with tears.
“It’s complicated.”
That was when something inside me snapped.
“Complicated?”
My voice remained calm.
Maybe that was what made it worse.
“You have my husband’s face permanently inked into your skin. Please explain which part is complicated.”
Mark stepped closer.
“Rachel, stop.”
I turned on him.
“No. You don’t get to tell me when to stop.”
“People are watching.”
“I know.”
“Tyler is here.”
“I know that too.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re making a scene.”
That sentence burned through whatever restraint I still had.
“I’m making a scene?”
I placed the champagne glass on the table.
“You slept with my best friend, and I’m the embarrassing one because I noticed?”
A gasp moved through the crowd.
Mark closed his eyes.
And then he made the mistake that confirmed everything.
“We never did anything around Tyler.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
His mother covered her mouth.
Dana whispered, “Mark.”
