Julieta climbed into the van with Mamá after she left the protests.
Mamá reached out to her. “Mija.”
Julieta threw up her hand like a stop sign. “Don’t, Mamá. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“I was just going to say that I understand.” Julieta’s mom squeezed her hand. And Julieta let the tears fall. “Ah, mi amor, I know. I know.”
“I loved him, Amá.”
“I loved his father, too. I loved him more than I loved the sand on the beach. But we were not right for each other. What I had with your papá—that was true love. We shared the same values, the same vision, the same goals. And that is what is important in life.”
“But why, Mamá? Why can’t this work?”
“Relationships are hard work even under the best of circumstances. I know you remember your papá and me always having a great marriage, but that just was not the case. We fought all the time. We fought about money when you were younger, and childcare, howto raise you. It’s incredibly difficult, but you have to be on the same page. Ramón does not share your core values.”
“But Mamá, that’s not true at all.”
“Will you ever feel comfortable in his world? You told me how you felt the day that you saw him at the wedding.”
Julieta nodded but wasn’t sure if she agreed with Mamá anymore. “Aren’t the best relationships when you learn from each other? When you grow together?”
“It is better to be with someone who is like you.”
Julieta wasn’t so sure. So what that Ramón had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth? He had already taught her so much. How to enjoy her days off. How to have more of a work-life balance.
How to find a hobby that she enjoyed.
How to love.
And she had taught him stuff, too—it wasn’t one-sided. Julieta had seen the way that Ramón had come alive when he played the guitar. That was who he was—not this asshole in a business suit. That was his job, not his real identity.
But it didn’t matter. He was gone. She’d broken up with him, and Ramón wasn’t the type to take her back.
And maybe Mamá was right. What kind of life would they have had together? Her family would never accept him, and she wouldn’t be accepted by his—especially by that mother of his. She no doubt wanted Ramón to date a girl who had Ivy League degrees and came from a rich family. Julieta had tattoos, and Ramón had Teslas. They were like oil and water.
Julieta went back into Mamá’s house. The place seemed colder now than before.
There were cracks in the paint and holes in the wall. But this was her home. She had grown up here. She loved it. But even keeping this roof over her head would be a challenge now that she’d quit her job.
Back when Julieta had met Ramón, she’d thought the worst thing that could ever happen to her was to lose the business. But it wasn’t. It was finding love and losing it. It was getting a taste of happiness only to have it be snatched out from under her.
That was the worst.
Julieta paused by the photo of Papá. What would he tell her today? He had been such a hard worker, even until the end. He would never, ever let a setback stop him. He would get up the next day and do the same thing.
After all, mañana was another day.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ramón woke up a month later with a hangover and a hard-on. He missed sweet Julieta, her voice, her scent, her mouth.
He had been so angry to see her holding that sign that he hadn’t been able to forgive her. But time had made him second-guess his decision.
Las Pescas was vacant for now, the rent increases had been called off, and the protests had stalled. But Ramón still hadn’t told the business owners what was happening.
He had to make some decisions. Real decisions about the properties in Barrio Logan.
Ramón grabbed his guitar and strummed, but a cacophony of noise came out.
