“Bibi, please—” Emilio’s voice cracks.
I can’t look at him. Not when it feels like my entire world is crashing down around me. They say when you lose the one you love, your heart breaks. But it isn’t only my heart that hurts. My chest aches, my breaths are ragged and shallow. I didn’t realize just how much I cared about him before, but the weight of my feelings slam into me like a Mac truck and I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack if I have to look at him even a second longer.
Is this what he wanted? To hurt me? To see me fall apart? To know he owned my heart and then throw it away?
Emilio chases us out of the driveway, panic written all over his face. “Don’t do this! It’s a misunderstanding. A fucking misunderstanding,” he shouts. But I’m done listening.
Jae peels down the street, finally putting some much-needed distance between us. I see Emilio come to a stop in the rearview mirror, arms at his sides and a hopeless expression on his face as he stands in the middle of the street. I stare at him as his figure gets smaller and smaller. The hole in my chest growing wider and wider.
We turn a corner, and as soon as he’s out of sight, the tears come faster. Angry, hurt, confused sobs wrack my body, making my chest heave and my shoulders shake.
I bury my face in my hands, a keening sound escaping my lips. Jae pulls over on the side of the road and I hear him unbuckle both our seatbelts before shoving his seat back as far as it will go and dragging me into his lap. His arms wrap around me and he holds me tight in a fierce embrace. “It’s going to be okay,” he tells me, but I have no reason to believe him. No part of what happened tonight feels like it will ever be okay.
“You’ve been drinking, B. Things might look different in the morning,” he tells me.
I don’t bother responding. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know anything.
I don’t know how long we sit there on the side of the road, but eventually my sobs subside, leaving behind a gaping pit in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I tell him when I can form words again. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I just—”
“Don’t apologize. I’m here. For whatever you need. I’ll always be here, okay?”
I nod against his chest, taking a few precious seconds to pull myself together before I lift my head from his chest and climb over the center console, taking my seat again. I wipe the tears from my face and suck in a shuddering breath. Get it together, I tell myself and decide here and now that I will be fine. I’ve been through a lot. I’m strong. I’m independent. And I can do this on my own. I’ve already proven that. I don’t need Emilio to be whole. Brick by brick I will put myself back together. I won’t become my mother. I won’t settle for a man who doesn’t really love me.
SEVENTY-TWO
Emilio
She won’t take my calls. I know she moved in with Jae, but I don’t know where the fuck that even is. She picked Luis up this morning. Dominique called to let me know she showed up at his place, but I wasn’t able to make it there fast enough to intercept her and Monique refused to tell him what time she was coming for me to plan ahead. Fuck. I should have just showed up at seven this morning and waited. That would have been the smart thing to do. The creeper-stalker thing too, but I could live with that.
The girls are locking down hard. Even Allie is vague-booking shit. Telling me to give Bibiana space. That she just needs time to think.
No, the fuck she doesn’t because all she’s doing is thinking about shit that never fucking happened. Giving her time and space right now is not going to help me in the least. It’s only going to make shit worse.
“Take a breath,” Allie says, handing me a cup of something warm. Cocoa by the looks of the mug. I accept the drink and take a sip, immediately recognizing the spiced flavor of Abuela’s hot chocolate, but I barely taste it. Everything feels bland to my senses, my world a colorless haze of gray.
I take another drink, hoping the warmth will seep into my bones and calm me down, but it does nothing for me. My leg won’t stop bouncing. My mind is racing a mile a minute trying to come up with a way to win my girl back. If I could just talk to her…
“Emilio?”
I look up from my cup.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. It’s not that bad.” Allie says, dropping down into Roman’s lap and leaning against him. We’re all sitting in their living room—Dominique, Roman, Allie and I, as I try to come up with a plan, but so far, I’ve got nothing.
I scrape my bottom lip through my teeth and shake my head. “You don’t know that. You didn’t see the look on her face when she left—”
“She thinks you cheated. That this probably isn’t the first time,” Allies admits as if I don’t know that already, but hearing it aloud pisses me right the fuck off.
“I didn’t cheat!” I snap at her, shoving to my feet. “I never cheated. Not once.”
Roman glowers at me. “Calm the fuck down and don’t yell at her,” he bites out.
Dominique’s hand on my shoulder stops me from stepping closer and instead I sit back down, my shoulders slumping in defeat. “I didn’t fucking cheat. I told you guys what happened. I wouldn’t—“
“We know,” Allie says. “And we believe you. Just… give her some time. Right now, she’s hurt and—”
“She doesn’t need to be. If she would just talk to me. Let me explain. I could fix this.”
Allie nods her head, a solemn look in her dark brown eyes. “I know. But she asked for some space. You need to give her that. Let her realize her mistake on her own terms. Don’t push her or you’ll end up pushing her away. You have a visit with Luis tomorrow, right? It won’t kill you to wait one more day to see her.”
