Page 156 of Top Shelf

“I was young when I left.” His gaze moves toward the trees. “I thought if I carried it with me, I could not lose it.”

I touch the bare skin near the ink. “Did it work?”

“Sometimes.”

My fingers move lower, opening another button, and that’s when I see it. At first, I think it’s a shadow beneath the curve of his ribs, near the place where the treeline thins into smaller stems and leaves. Then he catches my wrist gently, stopping me before I touch.

“Careful,” he says.

I look up, and his expression has changed.

“What did you do?”

He releases a breath through his nose. “Yesterday, when I went into town with Johan, for the paperwork with the lawyer… I did the paperwork.”

“Viktor.”

“And then I got a new tattoo.”

I look down again, gently tugging his shirt open. There, beneath a clear protective film, fresh ink sits red-edged against his skin. A small blue flower worked into the base of the treeline, delicate and bright against all that black.

My fingers lift before I can stop them.

“It is healing,” he says quickly. “Do not touch.”

I pull my hand back, my breath caught somewhere high in my chest. “You added a new flower?”

“Yes.” His eyes stay on mine. “It is yours.”

The words move through me slowly, too soft at first to understand.

Mine.

I make a sound that might be a laugh if it weren’t trying very hard to become a sob. “You got a cornflower tattooed for me?”

“Yes.”

“On your family treeline.”

My eyes burn as he only nods and watches me with complete stillness.

“Cornflowers are for loyalty,” I whisper.

“And stubbornness.”

A wet laugh escapes me. “Obviously.”

“And weddings.” His eyes drop to my ring, then lift again. “But mostly—you.”

“You put me with these wonderful women.” My lip trembles. “All the women you love.”

His throat moves, and his eyes remain on mine. “Just like I carry the treeline with me, so I could never lose it.”

I pause, the question sitting on my lips. “Are you worried you’ll lose me?”

His expression is undone beneath the fading summer light. “I hope not. You are part of me now.”

The words I want to say are right there. They gather in the space between us, beautiful as the meadow and true as the fear clenching my chest. But I don’t know how to say them, so I reach for him instead.