j a i m e e

+

"Come on, Jai. Stop being shy!"

I step out of the bathroom, sighing as I watch Libbie jump up and down squealing.

The moment I told her that my fiancé had insisted on taking us on our first date as husband and wife to be, Libbie insisted that she would help me get dressed up for it, despite the fact Shayden told me I didn't need to go all out.

"Damn girl, you're so hot." Libbie hums, looking me up and down as Taylor stays transfixed on his video game.

"Why's he even here?" I exclaim, pointing at him as she rolls her eyes.

"He told me he'd buy me food if I let him use my game console." She shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "Taylor, be useful and tell her how hot she looks!"

I look down at the sleeveless dress that clung to all my curves and ended mid-thigh. Black lace embroidered the tight material and I felt so different wearing a dress instead of my usual hoodie and jeans. All my tattoos were on show, as were the scars aligning my back but my hair covered most of them.

Taylor looks away from the TV for a second before turning his attention back to it, "Shayden loves you in black, he'll have a boner by the time you've left the house."

My eyes widen at his explicitness but deep down, I appreciate the fact he didn't sugarcoat anything. Spending time with both Libbie and Taylor was awfully refreshing and reminded me of a time where this was the norm.

I hear a knock on my door and I start to panic.

"Shit. He's here. Shit, shit, shit. Libbie!" I rush, freaking out as if I'm going on my first date.

In all fairness, it feels like it.

"Babe, calm down." She tries to soothe me, handing me my bag. "Everything's in there. Go and knock him off his feet."

She leans over and kisses my cheek.

"I love you, Libb."

"I love you too, Jai. Now go and make me an auntie."

"Absolutely not." Taylor grunts, now stood next to me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and guides me to the door, opening it to see Shayden smiling sheepishly at us. "Right I want her home by midnight. No funny business."

"Yes Sir." Shayden salutes him, before turning to me and holding his hand out. "Shall we, my love?"

I take it, grinning. "We shall."

+++

"God, I hate my hair." I groan, tugging my fingers through it as it started to frizz up. We'd just parked up near the Mall but Shayden swore that we weren't going shopping.

"Let me do it for you." Shayden offers, "Have you got a hair tie?"

I stare at him as if he's crazy at first before tugging a hair tie off my wrist and handing it to him nervously.

"Sit between my legs." He requests lowly, which I do once he's moved the car seat back.

We sit in silence as he tugs my hair back, taming the long, dark strands by pulling them into a braid. By the time he's finished and I've inspected them in the car mirror, my jaw dropped. "Holy shit, Shay. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"When Mom got sick, I learned how to do her hair." He shrugs, but his words warm my heart in a way that I didn't know was possible.

Our lips meet for a few moments, our lips moving naturally against each other. The wind rushes in through the window, making me shiver as goosebumps decorate all my upper body that's exposed with the strapless dress. A sudden realization hits me then. With my hair braided, all the marks on my back and tattooed arms are visible. And that thought is only accentuated when I feel Shayden's gentle fingertips tracing over them.

"Pretty horrible, huh." I hum. I turn my head to look up into his black eyes. My heart hurts at my own words and I wish more than anything that I covered them up.

"Nothing about you is horrible, baby girl." He whispered to me, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on the raised skin. "They're proof that you're alive."

Understanding consumes me at his words. I'd never thought of them like that. I always hated the permanent reminder of that day, wishing more than anything that things would've gone differently. But thinking of them like that, as if they're a reminder that I'm still here and they didn't break me, seems to set a new light on the entire fragment of my history.

"They remind me that I could've lost you but I didn't." He says lowly, but the pain in his eyes reminds me that the memory was tough for him also. I didn't need Taylor to tell me of the guilt that Shayden felt, or that he felt complicit. "They remind me that you're here, with me. That they didn't take you away from me."

"I love you." I say in one breath before connecting our lips once more.

"C'mon, we're using the Mall as a cut through."

Somehow, we found ourselves in a photo booth. Shayden was laughing as we went through the different filters, before finally choosing one that was the most realistic.

We started the timer and the first photograph was snapped as I puffed up my cheeks and made myself cross eyed as Shayden stuck his tongue out.

I couldn't remember the last time I took photos in a photo booth, maybe it was during a trip to the mall with Libbie during High School.

We changed poses for the second poster, Shayden pulling me onto his lap and wrapping his arms around my waist as we smiled widely. Just as the timer goes off, Shayden tickles my ribs and makes me laugh while he's just smirking at the camera.

"Dickhead." I mutter, still coming down from my laughter.

"You love me really." He mumbles, lips extending upwards.

"Always." I whisper back, my hand moving up to cup his jaw as we stared into each other's eyes.

Before we even knew what was happening, the camera snapped a photo and that was it. I gave an amused shake of my head, a pink flush on my cheeks as I thought about how that photograph might look. I pulled him down for a kiss and Shayden returned it feverishly, not able to fight the smile slipping onto his face as our lips moved in unison.

"Come on, dumbass." I chuckled against his lips, moving to grab his hand and pull us out of the photobooth so we could see our pictures.

"God, you're spending too much time with Tory." Shayden groans at the insult, not bothering to hide the pout on his face as he followed me out.

I took the two strips of pictures from the photobooth and, just before I manage to look at it, Shayden snatched it out of my hand

"Hey! Give them back." I complain, trying to grab them as his tall ass self holds them higher than I can reach. "Longed legged bastard."

"Not my problem." By this time, we're already out of the Mall and walking down the sidewalk. "Right, we're here."

My eyes widen as I look at the building.

Out of everything I expected, it certainly wasn't this.

"Are you being serious?"

Shayden cocks his head at me, a smile playing on his lips. "Deadly."

Failing to prevent the shit-eating grin from overtaking my face, I just shake my head as I follow him into the tattoo parlour, not even surprised by his venue choice for our date.

"So," I start off, eyes skimming over the array of designs on the wall. "What are we getting?"

Shayden's eyebrows raise as if he didn't expect me to go along with his little journey, but answers regardless. "How about you pick something for me and I'll do the same for you?"

This is such a bad idea. "Deal."

+++

"Fuck." I mutter, gritting my teeth as the needle goes over my bone again. "Fucking bastard shitfuck motherfucker."

The tattooist laughs and Shayden just stands there shirtless, shaking his head as he watches me complain. A white bandage is stark against his skin as it covers his surprise tattoo that we decided to expose to each other at the same time.

"How does it still hurt you? You have loads of them." He exclaims, pointing directly at the ones covering my arms.

The needle goes across the bone in my wrist again, I grunt. "A needle is a fucking needle, dumbass. It still hurts."

"Well you're all done now." The tattoo artist smiles up at us. Shayden pays her and then we walk into the front room, where the mirrors are.

"This better be good, Mendoza." Shay mutters, tracing around the bandage.

"Right back at you, dickhead. You tatted both my wrists."

"On three?" He says, and I nod. "3, 2- who the fuck goes on two?!" Shayden shouts, noticing how I'd flipped my wrists over to see the ink before he'd finished.

"Oops." I mumble, not being able to think of anything else to say.

Vertically on each of my wrists lies one of my parent's birth years. The black ink sinks into my skin, as if it belonged there naturally. I thought he'd pick something stupid but instead my fiancé chose something that I never had the guts to. I always wanted something dedicated to my parents but I could never choose something that articulated just how much they mean to me, just how much I love them still despite them having been gone for so long.

It was so simple, but so damned beautiful. Now everytime I look down, I'll see them right there with me. By my side forever.

In the midst of my own emotional turbulence, I hadn't noticed the way Shayden's stare hadn't left the addition to his mother's tribute.

"It's a compass." I say softly. In reality, it was only half of one as I asked the tattooist to make it look as if it was a part of the tattoo originally. Which she did beautifully, it looked exactly how I envisioned it. "Shania means-"

"I'm on my way." He finishes, tracing his thumb over it gently.

"So she's right with you, always on her way beside you despite whatever journey life takes you on. Just like Mami and Papi are always beside me." I lift my wrists up, smiling.

"There's no one like you, Mendoza." Shayden holds my waist, pushing our body's together until our arms are intertwined around each other. I feel him lean down and kiss the top of my head as we hold each other, snuggling into one another's embrace. "No one like you."

We leave the shop and I can't help the words spilling out of me. I can't hold them back. So many emotions are coursing through my body right now and the amount of love and appreciation that I hold inside of myself for this man is unbelievable.

"Shayden, I...I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." I grip his hands, holding them to my chest as we step closer to one another. "You're my everything."

"And you're mine. JM and SN forever, right?"

"You don't get it. You..." I try to find the right words, mind jumbled as all these thoughts litter through my brain. "You got me to talk about Cameron. And you listened to me. You believed me. And you got me through something that I thought was impossible. And Remi. Remi! You gave me the strength to tell my brother, Shay. And you treat Starr like she's your blood, you're amazing with her. You saved my life. You fought those who have hurt me from the moment I was 14. You got me through losing my parents. You build us a home! You fought for us, even when I didn't think I could fight anymore and I gave up. You love me. You love me like nobody ever has before."

"Marrying you will be the best day of my life, Mendoza. We built a home, together. Me and you. Out of all of the broken pieces, out of all the things that tried to come between us. We built each other, we make each other better. And, baby, you make me so happy." He kisses me sweetly. I kiss him back, angling my head so it deepens. When he pulls away, he keeps his face as close to mine as possible. His warm, minty breath tickles my skin as our foreheads lean on one another's. "Thank you for saving me your last dance."

+++

From the moment my parents were ripped so callously from the world, I've known pain like no other. The feeling of loneliness became my best friend. I've known grief, and pain, and regret. Falling to the bottom of my own mental abyss and almost ruining my life had such a substantial impact on my mental health. I almost dropped out of College, which would've landed me in such a horrific mental place that I doubt I would've been able to escape from. I've begged and pleaded whatever is out there for a different life, for a different story and a happier ending.

When Cameron raped me, I could never imagine feeling happy ever again. He took so much away from me that I valued and destroyed all of my remaining hope in humanity. And I'll never forgive him for that, but this hatred of life and the world needs to stop. I've realized now that I don't want to live like this anymore.

I never shied away from the darkness of the world, but things are different now. I don't want to be stuck in this neverending labyrinth for the rest of my life, running around in circles searching for answers that I'll never get.

So now I'm stood in front of my bedroom mirror in one of the only dresses I still own, looking at my exposed skin that seemed so harmless in comparison to the panic it evoked in me. I can't believe I've survived all of this hell. The self doubt, the blame. So many opportunities for self destruction but I worked on building myself instead. I'm not the same person that defended Shayden all those years ago, with two parents and an untainted body. I heard her in my head for such a long time, the softness in her voice and the innocence in her heart.

I'll never be her again and, for the first time ever, I'm okay with that.

I've accepted that now, four years later. Clinging onto that broken part of me will only do more damage, and I've realized that truly.

I don't hear her voice anymore. She doesn't make snarky remarks when someone speaks, she doesn't wish that things were different because despite it all, I'm happy now.

For so long, I wanted to be empty. Free and void of all and any emotion, just so the overarching pain in my heart would eventually dissipate. Having no expectations so they'd never be any disappointments.

Pushing Shayden and my brother away was the worst choice I'd ever made. It didn't make me happy; It didn't make the pain any easier to cope with. Dependency is scary, but fighting a mental war alone is even worse. But through it all, my spark never died. I had enough strength to crawl out of my self-constructed barrier and spoke about the pain he inflicted. I trusted 12 strangers with all my vulnerability and begged for them to see through Cameron Mason's fake persona.

Because I spoke out, people like Libbie were safer than they were when he was free. Even if just for a short time.

I'm not the same girl who ran back into Shayden all them months ago. Scared. Broken. Traumatised.

I'm not the same girl who used to stay up until the early morning reading stories with her older brother.

I'm not the same girl who could wear pretty dresses and not feel her skin crawling at the feeling of someone looking at it. I used to bake in the attention because I knew I'd always have it off the person who I cared about the most.

I'm not angry about that anymore.

I can't change what I've been through. I can't change who I was or the choices I made. But I have the choice on how I move forward.

It took me longer than most to realize that the only person who can fix my life is me. My journey to self preservation and love left a lot of casualties, Shayden and Remi included.

I forgive myself for hurting them.

And I forgive myself for prolonging my pain.

These scars may not be pretty, but they're mine. They don't have to define me but I can't spend my life ignoring them. It'll just cause more pain in the long run and that's not fair on me. I've been through enough.

I should be my own priority. Self love and self preservation is something I'm still working on but I'll keep fighting, until I'm happy.

I will be happy.

~ the end ~