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And now I’ve done the exact thing I promised I wouldn’t.

I let her down.

Chapter Twenty

Cece

I’m so fucking stupid.

That’s the thought that keeps circling while I stand in Mami’s kitchen pretending I’m not waiting for a man who said he’d be here an hour and a half ago.

Stupid for believing him when he looked me in the eyes at the track and promised he’d show. For letting that promise settle somewhere soft in me like it meant more because it came from him. And for thinking maybe Revel was different enough that I could stop waiting for the part where wanting me became inconvenient.

But the worst part is, I didn’t even question it.

I believed him.

By eight-thirty, dinner is cold. Not we can toss it back in the oven and pretend nothing happened cold either.

The chicken has gone dry around the edges, the rice is starting to clump, and the sauce Mami spent half the afternoon making has that thin little skin forming across the top.

I’m standing at her kitchen counter with a dish towel in my hand, wiping down the same spot for what has to be the third time while she rinses plates at the sink.

Qué vergüenza.

My phone is facedown beside me, but I flip it over again anyway.

Eight thirty four.

Nothing comes through.

My screen stays stubbornly empty—no missed call, no text, not even one of his stupid memes or a quick running late, mama from the man who usually answers me so fast I’ve accused him of having no fucking life.

I stare at it a second longer than I should, then lock the screen and set it down harder than necessary.

Mami glances over her shoulder. “Cece.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ajá.” She looks at the counter, then back at me. “You’ve cleaned that same spot three times.”

“Maybe I want it clean.”

“Mija, you hate cleaning.”

“I hate dirty counters more.”

That earns me the look.

The mom look.

The one that somehow digs through every layer of bullshit without her having to say a word.

I turn away before she can get too far.

“He probably forgot.”

The second it leaves her mouth, my chest aches.