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And—
I take a breath again, deeper.
The gun.
Even now the weight of it is sitting in my hand, like some kind of dark spectral. As if finding the baggie of white powder and the pills weren’t enough. The drug argument didn’t even come close to the ferocity of the gun one.
It’s just . . . he thinks he’s so adult. And I know what it’s like. Not only do I teach kids, but I was one, so the rush into adulthood and the absolute arrogance is there inside me. I remember all my mistakes, every moment.
And Diego—
“He’s not coming, not calling back. Probably dialed by mistake, Nadie,” I mutter, and I go to my room and pull on a dress and some flats. I run a brush through my long black hair in the mirror, retie it, and stare at myself as I scrutinize everything I see in my reflection. I look too pale, my mouth’s too big like my eyes, everything’s a little too pointed like my bones are too big for my skin. But I’m not putting on make-up and I can’t gain weight overnight, so . . .
I get my phone and bag and shove some cotton shopping totes in the bag with my wallet. Then I head out. It’s a nice night, so I decide to walk. The house is too big, really, for one, and the yard costs to keep it from turning wild, but I grew up here, and there are good memories with the bad. Besides, it’s all we had in the end so now I’m like some kind of caretaker of something I’m not even sure I want.
“Nadia.”
The voice makes me clench my teeth and arrange my features in a smile. I turn. “Hi, Riff, how are you?”
My hot ex, because he’s that, even with his bod that’s slipped into dad over athlete, waves and walks up wearing the ever-crisp jeans, a cowboy shirt, and boots. His look is suits and Ts and the latest, priciest kicks, but I don’t ask about the ensemble because it’s not my business.
“Better now these eyes are on you.”
Once the flirt worked. Once. Now it’s cringe and it isn’t his fault. He was never my choice, not really. He fit, that’s all.
He’s not Diego, but no one is, and that’s a good thing. He never fit either.
Thoughts start to swarm, but I squash them all.
“Nice to see you, but I need to get some dinner from the—”
“Nadia.” He catches my hand and tugs me closer, gently pushing me in the direction of the bar he likes, Rocko’s Clam Hut, though I don’t think the place even knows what a clam is, which is probably for the best. “Come on, we might not be getting married, but we’re friends, and friends don’t let friends eat frozen dinners. I’ll buy you a burger.”
I swallow my sigh. I know when to pick my battles and right not having a burger with my ex isn’t one of them. “Sure, lead the way.”
* * *
Riff is telling me about his latest venture, and I pick out every third word as it’s a raucous night in here with some game on. I know he means well, but I wonder if he’s harboring a hope of a second chance.
Thing is, I know, in my heart of hearts that it’s me and not him. Women still swoon over Riff. He comes from money, played college sports, and came home still loved by everyone. He’d make a good father and husband, I hear in whispers loud enough for me to hear. No one approved of the breakup, not that I care. It was my choice.
I don’t know what I wanted. But Riff isn’t it. Diego, now, he was always trouble and a man I always loved, ever since I can remember.
My savior, hero, protector, friend and one day it happened. Boyfriend and finally lover, and I think he ruined me.
Then he’d betrayed me, broke my heart, and taught me love is for fools. My love, anyway.
The bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks didn’t want the one person who’d always been in his corner, always believed in him, and he repaid me by betrayal.
Now he’s in Dallas and probably a criminal. There’s a small part of me, the stupid part, that thinks if he told me he loved me, I wouldn’t care.
I’m an idiot, a fool. I went through hell to get his number, and after that brief call he never called back.
“Hey, Nadia,” Riff says, butting me gently with his shoulder. “Another man might take your disappearing there as a diss.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just . . .”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Jay. I know.”
