Eventually, curiosity won.

“Who is she?”

Ryan barely looked at the tattoo. “Nobody.”

Not enough to start an argument, but enough to stay in my mind.

Several years later, after we became engaged, I brought it up again. This time he laughed.

“There isn’t some big story.”

“So who is she?”

“My buddy was learning realistic tattoos. He downloaded a random photo online and needed somebody to practice on.”

“It’s the truth.”

Even then, I knew he was lying. I simply had no idea why.

After we married, the tattoo bothered me more and more. It was not because I suspected Ryan of cheating. It was because people do not permanently place a stranger’s face on their body.

Not like that. Not with that level of detail.

Eventually, I asked him to cover it. I was not asking him to remove it. I just wanted something else. A compass. A mountain range. A dragon. Anything.

At first he agreed. Then the months slipped by. The tattoo artist moved. Money became tight. Work got busy. There was always another excuse.

Eventually, I stopped asking. Not because I no longer cared, but because I was exhausted. Exhausted from losing the same fight. Exhausted from feeling like I was competing with a woman whose name I did not even know.

So I taught myself to ignore her.

Or at least I believed I had.

Until last week.

I was waiting in line at a bakery when the woman standing in front of me turned slightly. My stomach dropped. I knew that face. Not from school, not from work, not from anywhere in my actual life.

For a moment, I honestly thought my mind was playing tricks on me. Then she turned a little farther. The same eyes. The same lips. Even the tiny beauty mark near her jaw. Older now, but undeniably her.

My hands began to shake. I must have stared at her for nearly a minute. Finally, before I lost my courage, I stepped forward.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around.