MARCELLUS
The second her eyes lock onto the tattoo, I know I'm f****d. For four years I kept that particular madness hidden from the whole world. Now my wife is staring straight at it.
"What the actual fuck...?"
I close my eyes for a second, but the corner of my lips is already curving. Why should I feel embarrassed?
When I open my eyes, Nora is frozen in the doorway, her cheeks blazing red. It's probably from the fact that I'm standing here completely naked. But her gaze is also fixed on the tattoo on my thigh. In her handwriting.
I look down at the bold letters inked high on my inner thigh. NORA. To be fair, it's my favorite tattoo.
She points, her mouth hanging open. "What?"
I sigh. "That's not a question."
"THAT'S MY HANDWRITING."
"How extremely observant of you."
"Normal pe
