The Fifth Spring Since the Divorce

Summary

Five years after our divorce, I crossed paths with Silas Thorne in a tattoo parlor.

He was there to touch up the color on his lover's name, etched across his chest.

I was there to mask old scars on my wrist.

Years had passed, and for a long moment, we just stared at each other in silence.

Silas was finally about to speak when a pair of small hands grabbed the hem of his shirt.

"Daddy," a little boy piped up, looking at me with undisguised curiosity. "Who is she?"

A gust of wind off the ocean set the wind chimes on the porch clinking, breaking the heavy quiet.