He stopped responding to my texts. Then he got in a fight. Then he gave the police myname.
What did Garrett say to him? What could have possibly made Rodriguez lose control like that?
I don’t care. Rodriguez is in trouble and I need to get to him.
They lead me to a security office off the main lobby. A small room with a desk and two chairs.
And Rodriguez.
He’s sitting there with his head in his hands. His white shirt is ruined. His knuckles are split open. His jaw is red and swollen.
He looks up when the door opens.
The expression on his face is pure devastation. Like he’s just ruined everything and he knows it.
“JuJu—”
“Your name is Romeo.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Your name. Your first name. It’s Romeo.”
“I, yes. But that’s not?—”
“Romeo Rodriguez.”
“Yes, but?—”
“ROMEO.” My voice goes up. “Your name is ROMEO and you let me call you Rodriguez for FIVE MONTHS.”
The cop clears his throat. “Ma’am, we just need you to confirm his identity.”
“Yes. That’s him. Romeo Rodriguez… my boyfriend.”
The words feel bizarre coming out of my mouth. Romeo. His name is Romeo and I didn’t know. For five months I didn’t know.
“Alright. Mr. Rodriguez, you’re free to go. But I’d suggest avoiding the other guest for the remainder of your stay.”
“Understood,” Rodriguez says quietly.
He stands slowly. Carefully. Wincing as he straightens up.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re covered in blood and there were cops involved.”
“Most of the blood is his.”
“That doesn’t make this better.”
We leave the security office and walk through the lobby. A woman in silk robe and slippers and a man in suit covered in blood.
We get in the elevator and the doors close and we’re alone.
I turn to look at him. Take in the split knuckles. The bruise spreading across his jaw. The absolutely miserable expression on his face.
