The Most Important Question You Can Ask Your Partner
“Do you believe in destiny?” is a debate all couples should have.
Every time I look at the scar, I think of him.
A rough patchwork bleaches my kneecap white. Scars turn white when they lose the melanocytes that produce pigment. My flesh is his desert.
But I am being maudlin yet again. Usually, when you ask someone about a scar, they will not recount a person. They will recount the day and the way the scar came to be. Scars often make you conjure what-ifs. What if I had not climbed that tall ladder? What if the chopping knife had not slipped? What if I had not got in that car?
What if Jack* and I had never met?
I got this scar, putting one foot in front of the other. I have never been a strong hiker, and this trail was rocky and uneven. I was ahead of Jack, goading him to keep up.
Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and I tumbled down, toothed rocks biting my skin. Blood streamed from my knee and stained the ground.
Jack was there instantly, his face a mask of worry as he helped me up. We limped back, arms intertwined, four legs becoming three in an awkward dance. Jack teased me about my clumsiness and then suddenly turned solemn.
