18. PEDRO
18
PEDRO
I t’s a dreary Manhattan Thursday, a few days since the breakup heard ‘round the world. The apartment feels empty, a hollow shell left in the wake of the chaos of the past few weeks. Tío Juan’s presence has been a small comfort, a reminder that I'm not entirely alone in this mess.
I sit at the kitchen table, staring blankly at my laptop screen, when the doorbell rings. Tío Juan bounces to the door, his energy a stark contrast to the lethargy that has consumed me.
“Gretchen, my spicy tamale!” he exclaims, his voice carrying through the apartment. “Come in, come in!”
I look up, my jaw clenching slightly at the sight of Aria’s boss stepping into my apartment. She looks different, softer somehow, her usual sharp edges dulled by a glow of something resembling happiness. Is that the joy of a woman in love or the satisfaction of duping poor, unfortunate souls like me?
“Pedro,” she greets me, her tone cautious, as if sensing the tension in the air. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”
I shrug, my smile tight. “It’s Tío Juan’s apartment too, apparently.”
Tío Juan practically skips to Gretchen’s side, his grin wide enough to split his face. “That’s right! And we have big news, don’t we, mi amor ?”
Gretchen nods, her smile matching Tío Juan’s in its intensity. “We do,” she says, beaming as she gently squeezes Tío Juan’s hand. “Pedro, your uncle and I are getting married.”
I blink, the information taking a moment to register. “Married? Uh, that’s...unexpected. Congratulations, I guess.”
Gretchen’s gaze meets mine, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “I know things have been difficult lately, and I want to apologize for my part in all of this.”
I raise an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into my tone. “Your part?”
Gretchen sighs, taking a seat at the table. “When I started Full Circle, it was after my first marriage crumbled like a stale cookie. I was a hot mess, and the rebounding business made me feel like I had my shit together, like I was the puppet master of love. Looking back, it was about as healthy as my first marriage, but hindsight is like that.”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as I consider her words. “And Aria? Did you know about her history with me?”
Gretchen shakes her head, her expression serious. “I didn’t. But Aria...she’s not the same ruthless rebounder she was when she started this job. I've seen her grow more in the last four weeks than I've seen my bunions grow in thirty years, and trust me, those suckers are thriving. She gets it now, the weight of what she’s done.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, my curiosity pushing through my defenses.
“She quit,” Gretchen says, her voice soft. “Handed in her resignation a few days ago. Said she couldn’t do it anymore; something about how she couldn’t keep living a life of manipulation and deceit.”
I digest this information, a mix of emotions swirling in my gut. Relief that Aria has chosen a different path. Sadness that it didn’t happen before we reconnected. Then again, would we have found each other again if it hadn’t been for that job?
Gretchen leans forward, her gaze intense. “Pedro, I know you’re hurting right now, and you have every right to be angry. I don’t know about you, but your uncle will be husband number eight for me. I've screwed up more times than I can count. Haven’t you ever bungled something up so badly, crushed someone’s heart so completely, because you were too squeamish to let them see the real you?”
Her question hits me like a punch to the gut, memories of my own mistakes flooding my consciousness. I think back to four years ago, to how I pushed Aria away, let my fears and doubts about not being good enough for her poison what we had.
And I think of more recent times, of the distance I put between us when Aira Labs hit a rough patch, how I retreated into myself instead of leaning on her for support.
The realization is a bitter pill to swallow, a harsh light illuminating my own shortcomings. I've been quick to judge Aria, to condemn her for her actions, but I'm guilty of my own betrayals. Guilty of failing to fight for what we had four years ago.
Gretchen’s voice breaks through my thoughts, gentle but firm. “We all mess up. It’s what we do after that matters. You either learn from it or keep making the same stupid mistakes over and over again.”
I nod, the weight of her words settling on my shoulders. “I've got a lot to think about.”
Tío Juan, sensing the heaviness in the air, claps his hands together. “Enough of this doom and gloom! We've got a wedding to plan, and I've got ideas that'll make your head spin faster than a disco ball! Picture this: a ceremony at my ranch in Utah, just you, me, and the majestic beauty of nature. We'll say our vows surrounded by the rugged wilderness, a reflection of our wild and untamed love!”
Gretchen laughs, the sound a balm to the heavy atmosphere. “Utah? Oh, honey, you and your crazy ideas. I love it.”
As they dissolve into wedding chatter, I excuse myself, retreating to the solitude of my bedroom. The news of Aria’s resignation and Gretchen’s words sit heavy on my mind.
I think back to our last conversation, to the pain and the anger that colored every word. I remember the way her voice broke, the desperation in her plea for understanding. I was too hurt to see beyond my own pain.
But now, with the benefit of Gretchen’s perspective, I can see the shades of grey that color our story. Aria’s actions, while misguided and hurtful, were not so different from my own when I panicked four years ago and shut her out of my life. We both let our fears and insecurities drive us to make choices we regret.
The realization is humbling, a reminder that I'm not blameless in the unraveling of what we had. I think of all the times I could have been there for her, all the moments I let slip by because I was too caught up in my own struggles. I think of how, after I shattered her heart into a million pieces, she channeled her pain into a career built on manipulating love, on giving people a second chance at the very thing I denied her.
I know I can’t change the past. I can’t undo the hurt we've inflicted on each other. All I can do is try to move forward, to learn from my mistakes and be a better man.
The tech summit is in two days, a flickering candle amidst the darkness of my current disaster of a life. I know I need to focus on that right now, to put my best foot forward and secure the future of Aira Labs.
But even as I sit down at my desk and try to lose myself in the work, thoughts of Aria linger, a constant presence in the back of my mind. I take a deep breath, pushing away the doubts and the fears to focus on the task at hand. The pitch that could change everything.
And after the summit, after I've given it everything and left it all on the stage, I'll reach out to Aria. I’ll lay it all out; own up to where I stumbled and fell flat in this whole convoluted drama between us. I'll listen and try to set things straight even if I can’t make things right. Because if there’s one piece of hard truth I’ve gained from this whole mess, it’s that avoiding the messy, uncomfortable bits of life and love doesn’t make them go away. It’s like ignoring a spark until it becomes a wildfire that could have easily been doused with an honest conversation.