Chapter 31
Rio
“Sel is fucking evil,” Tito says, flinging his cell phone away. “I know that’s her doing.”
I reach for my phone and open it. It’s a photo slider on my Instagram feed.
In the first one, Luna’s lying down on a towel, all gorgeous, glowing brown skin in a barely there red bathing suit.
The image sends a flash of need straight down to my dick, because Luna naked against me is the ultimate fantasy I now beat off to.
But, it’s not meant to be. Luna back with me, laughing, kissing me, lying in my arms.
Not meant to be. She sent me to la mierda, and I’m already there, but I don’t see my way back.
“You need a minute with your phone?”
“Shut up, Tito,” I say, not looking at him.
Instead, I put the phone down and return to my computer.
I’m reading a book about oceanography, but I’m having trouble concentrating.
There’s so much in my head. I handled it all wrong, and now I have lost her.
I really did. All the signs are there. She blocked me and won’t talk to me.
Sent me pa la mierda, but I can’t stop loving her.
And I have to stop bugging her. I can’t become one of those creeps who won’t take no for an answer or who makes her uncomfortable. And what happens when she gets a macho…
The thought sends a burn down my chest, and I reach for the one thing that calms me these days. I open my notebook and let my pain bleed on the page.
I jumped again
Down the cliff into the deep
Not because I’m reckless
Because I hate being this sober
I need to erase it
The feeling of your hand in mine
The softness of your chest against my cheek
The smell of your hair on my pillow
Your shape in the corner of my eyes
It all needed to go
It backfired
Porque no habia nadie to tell me they loved me in the edge
And instead of the siren sound of silence
I’m drowning in a sea of despair…again
With the siren call of your voice in my head
My heart weighs a ton
It’s dragging my chest down
It’s not meant to be in that cavity because
I gave it to you, but you turned it down
I don’t know how to turn this around
My brain doesn’t know how to act
It refuses to feel another great loss
It rages against devastation
It’s too weak to carry this cross
A veces quiero que seas Feliz
Te amo de todos modos
Otras veces se me cruzan los apellidos
Y mando la razón al lodo
En esos momentos te envio todo
El rencor, el deseo, la ira, el amor, mi amargura, el odio
Te devuelvo el hechizo
Te deseo que no duermas
Y que te levantes sudada
Writhing en tu cama
Después de gritar mi nombre en tu sueno
Porque tu corazon, and your pussy, extranan su dueno
Tu sabes que lo soy, Mami
Tu boca puede decir mil cosas
Pero debería ensanarle a tus ojos y a tu cuerpo a mentir
Still waters run…you know
Ni tengo que decirte mi nombre
Tu mente te lo grita a todas horas.
I read my words and blink. Shit. I read it again, and the music plays in my head, a soft intro that grows larger, soft, sexy, and brutal. And for some reason I can’t explain, I page through my journal, reviewing the entries as I do before meeting with Dr. Jacinda.
And I see it, our story. I’ve been bleeding on this page since the night at the Coliseum. It’s all here, in my language, the cadence in the words and music playing in my head. It’s an album with an intro and definitely an outro.
No, not an album. I couldn’t sell this, because I wouldn’t want anyone else to touch it. Just me. Only me and a producer. And not just anyone. Someone I trust to do this justice.
I grab my phone and text Niko.
Me
Remember those tracks we worked on way back? I want to do a mixtape.
Niko
Sick. When? Who’s the producer?
Me
Tonight. And you.
Niko
Bruh. What?
Me
You in?
Niko
Fuck yeah. Vamo a romper.
Twenty minutes later, Tito and I arrive at Niko’s place. My friend takes one look at me and shakes his head.
“After the Rain Part II?” he asks, referring to my first mixtape. The first one we worked on when we were coming up. It was in the bedroom of his parents’ apartment.
But I shake my head, because this is not that. “I’m about to open a vein to let the poison out.”
My meaning dawns in my friend’s eyes.
“Fuck, are you sure?” Niko says.
“Rio…” Tito starts.
I stall them both with a hand. “We’re doing this, and we’re releasing it. If the label wants to sue me, so be it.”
“Hablale,” Niko says to Tito, throwing his hands up.
“You can’t do this without your team knowing,” Tito insists.
I take my phone and shoot a text to Esme, Kresh, and Maeven. Then I put my phone on airplane mode.
“Let’s do this.”
It takes us four hours to select the tracks we want from the vast arsenal we’ve mixed together over the years. While he and Tito eat, I play them and rehearse the songs. The first couple of times are rough, making me question what the fuck I’m doing.
How do I even let this shit out? I know people are going to call me a simp for this one. But the more I think about it, the less I give a fuck. This my ode to us. A ballad to my diosa. Because I've never felt like this before about anyone. Luna es única. Our love unlike any other.
The next time I hop on the track, it’s natural, like it’s made for the words. I can feel it sucking the poison from my wound.
Tito shoves a plate at me while Niko gets the equipment ready. “Eat it.”
I do as he says and wolf down the burger and fries. I chase it with a large glass of water, and then I drink another.
“Let’s go,” Niko says.
I get up from my chair, with the burn in my chest, and walk to the booth. Inside, the silence is thick, and the world disappears. I’m standing alone like I was when I wrote all these words. He signals, and I close my eyes.
I prayed for this, God
Begged you for light
I should’ve known what you would do
You brighten my way
So I can see the whip coming as you flog me
But it’s okay.
I’m ready to bleed
For mi pecado de amarla and the love that haunts me.
Es Rio
Bienvenidos a la Sangria
Pero no la que se bebe.
Hahaha, esta es la que te limpia
It’s The Bloodletting.
It takes us overnight, minimal sleep, and a lot of emotion, but I’m purged. My brain is spent, my body exhausted. I lie on the bed, making a list of things that are going to change.
I’m going to move the fuck on. I’m going to give myself a chance to love again now that I freed myself and her.
Goodbye, Luna.
* * *
Luna
It’s my birthday but I’m not in a club.
The sun finds me on the porch of the hotel, across the street from the beach. I’ve been here for hours because I couldn’t sleep.
Positive.
Seven times.
I stared at all the tests on the floor, not knowing what to do first: throw up, run, or scream. Sel tried her best to get me to come have dinner with friends of hers who moved down here, but I just wanted to be alone. I pretended to sleep when she got back.
I’m pregnant.
The little still voice kept torturing and reminding me.
The beautiful room began to feel like a prison, and soon the walls began to close in on me, trapping me.
I threw all the tests into a Ziploc bag and put them in my weekender bag.
I threw on my shoes, grabbed my phone and keys, and came down here to the beautiful porch, decorated with vines and flowers, of our boutique hotel.
The night concierge came to check on me, and I had to reassure him I was okay.
I stared into the sea until the sun rose and turned the black velvety waves into a blue mirage.
It reminds me a little of watching the sun rise when we arrived in Samaná but in a different kind of way, because that was soul deep like nothing else.
The call of your tierra is something that touches every corner of your being.
There’s nothing like that heat and smell on the island.
It feels like yesterday sometimes and others like an eternity.
I can’t even explain it. It’s all about him.
When I remember, I feel it all—Rio’s hands on my skin, his nervousness when we arrived, our time in the casita, his smile at El Cabito after we resurfaced from the water.
My eyes well, and the restlessness is back. It’s been rolling in like a dark wave and retreating when I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. It will roll away again, but I can’t sit, or it will set. So I stand and go down into the sand. Maybe a walk will help me clear my thoughts.
I am having his baby when we don’t even communicate like normal people. I lashed out. He lashed out. I blocked him. Pregnant.
I laugh out loud. You can’t make this shit up.
It’s crazy that I can pinpoint the day it happened. The night of my mom’s wedding. The night we rutted like angry animals. It wasn’t any of the times he loved me but the day he cursed me to miss him and never be at peace. The day I hated him for making me want him as much as I did.
After I was so angry and raging, I lost focus. I threw myself into my work. Even sick with the flu, I was not paying attention to anything. I just didn’t want to think about him anymore.
Was that even the flu?
It doesn’t matter. Rehashing won’t make it better. But I still need to find a way to talk to him, tell him what’s happening.
But how do I even begin that conversation?
I start small. I unblock him.