Battle Scars

"Show me your battle scars." she said.
He tilted his head to the side, confused.

"Show me your battle scars."
He moved up the sleeve of his shirt and pointed to a darkened patch of skin.
"Hot water burn. I think I was nine."
He pointed to the long horizontal scar line on his shin.
"My brother accidentally cut me with a knife. I must have been thirteen."
He rubbed the scar absentmindedly as if remembering how it hurt.
"Do you see this?" he inquired, point to a mark on his head, close to his ear.
"I hit my head that day. A really nasty gash."
She smiled fondly and took his hand in hers.
"Now show me your battle scars."
"But I just did."
"No."
She took the hand she held and placed it on his chest, where his heart was.
"Your battle scars."
He stared at her, teary eyed.
He finally understood.