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When it was all done you demanded I give you thatcrazy tattoo, and I said it would cost extra." You said you didn't care,and then you said you wanted it where you did and I said no. You gothuffy and puffy about it, and offered me a stack of hundred dollarbills... I warned you that there could be side effects of putting thattattoo where you asked for it. You didn't even let me finish, droppedthe money down and waited for me. I did. Now you're upset?" I smirked,"Am I missing anything?" You didn't tell me that it would do this." She gestured down to herbody. "You didn't say one word about that."I'm pretty sure that 'unexpected side effects-'" -and yes, I totallyair-quoted that, "-covered that." Unexpected side effects?" He looked at me incredulously. "Do you haveany idea what I've been through?" Nope." I sighed, crossed my legs, and leaned forward. "Why don't youtell me about what you've been through."She sat down and put her face into her hands for a moment then sat up. Morning sunlight spilled across the table, a red and rippled patch of it on the opposite side of Patrick’s juice glass, a deep shadow on the opposite side of his coffee mug. He turned his face toward mine, reached back, guided me around his chair, and encouraged me to take a seat in his lap. Patrick pulled me close, first returning the kiss on my cheek and then drawing my mouth to his. We kissed deeply, the sort of kiss that, even a decade after our first, still made my insides feel soft. Patrick was thirty-seven today, and this was the seventh birthday of his we had shared as husband and wife. I wanted to share many, many more with him. We had met ten years ago when I was a graduate student at a small liberal arts college in the South. We were an exclusive pair within a few months of meeting. It wasn’t long after that when I began to regard our wedding as a pre-ordained event. Soon I was confident that Patrick was on the same sheet of music. I slipped off Patrick’s lap as he stood..
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