“No, Betty. You just expect me to accept everything you do.”
With that, he walked away.
For the next few days, our home felt painfully quiet, and I began questioning myself.
Part of me wondered whether removing the tattoo would be easier.
I hated fighting with Rob, and I certainly did not want a little picture to destroy my marriage.
Then, I imagined Natalie noticing it was gone.
I could already hear her asking, “Nana, where’s my picture?”
What was I supposed to tell her?
That Grandpa thought her artwork made Nana trashy?
That Grandpa thought Nana had ruined her body?
Removing it felt like breaking my promise to her.
Still, Rob’s reaction seemed far too extreme.
We had disagreed before about money, family, and all the ordinary things couples argue about.
This was different.
Eventually, I called his brother, Dean.
Dean and I had always gotten along, and he was one of the few people who could tell Rob he was being unreasonable without immediately starting another argument.
“I need some marriage advice,” I admitted.
“That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
I told him about the tattoo and Rob’s reaction.
For several seconds, Dean said nothing.
“Dean?”
He exhaled slowly.
