20. PEDRO
20
PEDRO
A s I finalize my presentation, I lean back in the desk chair in my home office while my mind flashes back to the launch party for a recent product launch. Jessica had made the night all about her—posting, posing, draping herself over me like I was a sparkly coat rack. It was always about the brand, the image.
I remember how she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “This is as much my success as it is yours.” And I believed her. For a while, I let myself believe that her world and mine were one and the same. But now, preparing for this summit, I realize how suffocating that idea was. I was too caught up in her orbit to see how far I’d drifted from what I actually wanted.
Opening a tab in my browser, I sigh as I pull up her IG profile. I know hate-scrolling Jessica’s Instagram is pathetic, yet I still find myself doing it, seeking solace in a toxic past that now feels like a distant mirage. It’s a moment of weakness, a desperate attempt to reconnect with a time when everything seemed simpler, before that dramedy turned my life into a Shonda Rhimes script.
And then I spot it. Jessica’s latest post, a perfectly curated snapshot of her new life. She’s wrapped in the arms of some poor sap who doesn’t realize he just signed a kidney donation consent form by dating her. Her smile is brighter than I ever remember seeing it. The caption reads, “My Jeffie baby. Every ending is a new beginning. #jeffbeffos #blessed #livingmybestlife #couplegoals #powercouple #Jeffica”
Poor guy. He has no clue about the Category 5 hurricane of crazy he just willingly sailed into. Jessica’s love is like a Venus flytrap—pretty and inviting until it clamps down on you and slowly liquefies your soul into a nutrient sludge it can absorb. But I can’t deny it stings a little; how easily she’s moved on while I'm still here, trying to piece back the shattered remains of my self-respect.
“You ready to go?” Tío Juan’s voice jolts me back to reality, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos of my thoughts. “You done admiring your ex’s new boy toy, or should I give you two some privacy?”
I lock my phone, shoving it into my pocket as if I can somehow bury the image of Jessica’s newest victim. “Yeah, let’s do this. Time to put on my big boy pants and face the world.”
Tío Juan claps me on the shoulder, his grin a mix of understanding and encouragement. “That’s the spirit. We don’t have time for any more of your pity-party nonsense. We’ve got a tech summit full of brogrammers waiting to get their minds blown.”
I can’t help but smirk as we climb into my SUV, the familiar scent of Tío Juan’s cologne filling the air. For a guy pushing seventy, he’s still got more swagger than most dudes my age. He unlocked an infinite charisma cheat code at birth. I find it oddly comforting in a world that feels like it’s been turned upside down.
As he fiddles with the radio, settling on a salsa station, the music fills the car with the lively beats of a world far removed from the tech bubble we’re heading towards. It’s a small thing, but it helps, a reminder that life goes on, even when it feels like your own world has ground to a halt.
At the summit, I plaster on my best “innovator” smile and dive into the usual song and dance. Pitching our cutting-edge AI technology, fielding questions from the khaki-clad masses. But the words feel hollow, my usual passion and enthusiasm dampened by the weight of my personal troubles.
I stumble through my presentations, my mind drifting to thoughts of Aria, of the future we could have had if I hadn’t let my own fears and insecurities get in the way. In the end, I leave the summit with nothing but promises to get in touch, a sore hand from too many handshakes, and a hollow ache where the moneybags should be .
On the drive home, Tío Juan seems to sense my melancholy. He turns down the music, his voice soft and sincere. “Tough crowd today, huh?”
“It’s hard to dazzle people with your scintillating wit when your heart’s been ripped out and put through a blender.” The words come out more bitter than I intended, but Tío Juan just nods with understanding.
He sighs, his gaze distant as he looks out the window. “You know, I've been thinking about this whole love and sacrifice thing, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe you've been sacrificing the wrong things.”
I swallow hard as I grip the steering wheel in silence.
He sighs, fixing me with a look that cuts straight through my bullshit. “All I'm saying is maybe, just maybe, you've been so focused on building your company that you've forgotten what really matters. You've lost sight of the thing that makes all the struggle and heartache worth it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tío Juan laughs, a knowing sound that seems to see right through my defenses. “Yes, you do. You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you? About Aria?”
I open my mouth, ready with a sarcastic retort, but the words catch in my throat. Because he’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. In the midst of all this chaos, the only thing that feels real, the only thing that makes my heart ache with longing, is the woman I let slip through my fingers.
“Listen, I know you’re hurting right now. I know you feel like you've messed everything up beyond repair. But let me tell you something. Love, real love? It’s worth fighting for. It’s worth the struggle, the heartache, the risk of getting hurt all over again.”
I'm about to protest, to insist that it’s too late, that I've ruined everything beyond repair, when my phone rings. It’s Deborah, eager to pour salt on my gaping wounds with her “I told you so” tone.
“Uh oh, I'm sensing some serious sad-sack vibes coming from you, Ped-bro. The summit didn’t go so hot, huh?” She doesn’t wait for my reply before continuing. “Shocker. Look, I get it—you’re obviously going through a rough patch, as evidenced by that patchy thing you call a beard. Whatever you’re dealing with has dulled your focus. But maybe, and I'm just spitballing here, if you took a little break from all the dazzling Instagram drama and painful soul-searching, and paid some attention to those quarterly projections I emailed you, like, a billion times, this could've played out a little smoother. Then again, what do I know? I'm just the super helpful, insanely competent CFO you never listen to.”
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to hurl my phone out the window. “Get to the point, Deb. I'm really not in the mood for this today.”
“Such a charmer,” she deadpans. “Fine, I'll cut right to the chase. I've heard through the grapevine that your pitch at the summit didn’t do you any favors. So here’s the deal, sad sack. I spoke to Liam, and he told me all about your secret pitch dinner you had a few weeks ago. We’re both now offering to buy your out. Think of it more as a chance to spread your wings than a hostile takeover.”
Against every instinct in my body, I feel myself struggling to stay present at the overwhelming sense of failure that overcomes me. In a far-away, distant voice, I hear myself agreeing. It feels like surrender, like tapping out of the biggest fight of my life. But somehow, it also feels like an enormous weight being lifted, like the first breath after spending too long underwater.
As we pull up to my apartment, I feel a sense of purpose settling over me, a determination to make things right. I may have lost Aira Labs, but I refuse to lose Aria. Not without a fight.
Tío Juan seems to sense the shift in my demeanor. He grins, giving me a playful punch on the arm. “Ah, there’s my boy. I knew you had some fight left in you. Now, go get your girl. And don’t come back until you've fixed this mess, you hear me? I don’t want to see your mopey face around here no more.”
I nod, a smile tugging at my lips for the first time in what feels like forever. “Thanks, Tío. For everything.”
He waves off my gratitude, shooing me out of the car. “Yeah, yeah, enough with the sappy stuff. Go on, get out of here before I change my mind and decide to keep you company. Trust me, you don’t want to be around for my 'Heartbreak Karaoke' sessions. I've been told my rendition of 'All By Myself' is haunting. ”
I shake my head as I climb out of the SUV, my steps lighter than they've been in months. The heaviness I lived with when I chose Jessica, the feeling that everything was a game—strategic, calculated—it’s gone.
With Aria, life feels real again. Like it’s mine.
She doesn’t need me to be someone I’m not. She doesn’t want me to be some perfect version of myself for the world to see. I don’t have to be ‘Pedro the entrepreneur’ or ‘Pedro the Instagram boyfriend.’ I can just be…me. And that’s worth fighting for.
For the first time in forever, I know exactly what I have to do.
It’s time to stop running, to stop hiding behind my work and my fear. It’s time to fight for Aria, to show her that our love is worth everything.
The future is a terrifying mystery, but one thing is certain—this is just the beginning for us. And I’m going to give it everything I've got.