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beginning.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” She leans over onto the desk. “I would have helped you.”
    “I asked you!” I scream at her. “All those times I would ask you to come to the shop with me it wasn’t just because I wanted you around—I did—but I needed your help. I needed you to want this for the both of us, but after I apprenticed, somehow this became my dream not our dream anymore.”
    “I did what I had to do back then. We scrimped and saved, and fuck it all, Sketch, I was sick of it.”
    “Well you know what I’m sick of?” I get up and walk over to her. “My wife not being proud of me. You say I left you alone; I never wanted to spend time with you. Flip that script. How often did you come here to say hi to me, how often did you text me to see when I would be home without having an ulterior motive? When was the last time, before today, you even saw something I tattooed?”
    She’s speechless and she’s grappling for an answer, I can see it.
    “We’ve both done things we’re not proud of,” she concedes. “I don’t think I want to sign those papers just yet.” She looks up at me, her eyes impossibly huge. “What do we do?”
    “I’m not doing this, Nina. I’m not going to be the one who fixes things. I will admit that maybe I shouldn’t have given up, but I gave up because you never gave me any indication you wanted me to continue. You want me? You come and get me, or you walk out the door.”
    I stand there, my heart pounding, my legs shaking. My whole life sits in the balance of the decision she’s about to make, and I admit to myself that I’m fucking scared.

Chapter Eight
    SKETCH
    “T hat’s not fair,” she argues, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t ask me to be the only one to fight for this. We have to meet in the middle.”
    “You didn’t want to meet in the middle before,” I point out. “You chose to make the decision and walk out on me.”
    She blows out a breath and rolls her eyes.
    “Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes at me,” I tell her. She knows this pisses me off.
    “At least you pay attention to me when I do it,” she taunts.
    “If all you had wanted was my attention, babe, you could have figured out much more clever ways to get it. You’ve always had a bangin’ body, Nina. You could have put it to good use. My dick isn’t choosy.” I say that knowing she knows I haven’t cheated on her. I want her to hurt, I want her to feel broken the way I do.
    I watch as she walks up to me. “You’re an asshole, Sketch.”
    I bend down so that I’m at eye level with her. She’s on the petite side, and I’m six-two, so I bend at almost the waist. “If that makes it easier for you to sleep at night, keep lying to yourself, and if I am an asshole, it’s only because being with you made me one.”
    She smashes her lips together in a thin line and turns away from me before turning back to me. “I hate you.” She sneers, and out of my periphery I see her hand coming up, ready to slap me across the face.
    I reach out and grab her wrist in my hand. “That’s not happening, babe,” I say as I push her up against the door, causing it to groan against the lock, the sound loud in the room.
    This is the first time in months we’ve touched each other, I mean really touched each other. I flex my fingers against her wrist, shoving it up against the hard wood of the door, and use my other hand to pull her lower body against my own hard wood.
    She fights against my hold, struggling as I hold her there with my body. “Calm the fuck down,” I tell her. “I’m not letting you go until you stop.”
    “And I’m not stopping until you let me go.” She juts her chin up at me, and our lips our millimeters apart. “I still hate you,” she breathes against them.
    It’s been too long. I’m pissed, I’m horny, and I know her. Nina likes it rough; she likes me to be hard on her. “Then fuck me like you hate me,” I taunt.
    Using my height and weight