Chapter 2
Adriana
Oh, and that I did…
The plot twist Lenny never saw coming.
Hell… I didn’t either.
Altura hits me before the cab even pulls off.
If someone had told me I would be back at the place I tried so hard to forget, I would have laughed in their faces and called them a liar.
But here I am, taking in the busy streets.
The graffiti painted mural of the Puerto Rican and Dominican flags that merge on the walls is still as vivid as I remember.
My lip quivers, and the emotions all come tumbling down.
For a brief moment, I close my eyes trying to center myself, focusing on breathing.
The smell of hot asphalt and fried onions invades my lungs. Of course someone’s grilling.
All the different scents merge into something cozy and familiar that makes my heart feel less heavy. The final realization that I’m back home.
That I’m free….
The bass from a random Honda Civic shakes the sidewalk, with the dembow blaring from its speaker. Kids double dutch, and the sight brings me back to happier times—before everything changed.
I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips as I take in the barrio that birthed and raised me.
No matter how many summers have gone by, it’s still the same block.
Same noise. Same buildings. Too bad I’m not the same girl who’s walking back into it.
The girl who left this place was drowning in grief but still had a hopeless dream.
Now what returns is a shell. Someone the old me wouldn’t recognize.
I suck in breath, then start to walk. The wheels of the suitcase rattle over the curb, loud enough to announce my return to anyone who’s around.
Thankfully, it’s not many. But enough to have me shrink into myself and cause humiliation to burn at my cheeks.
Once I chose and left with Lenny, I never intended to come back, not after everything I lost. Not after all the pain I tried to outrun.
But as fate would have it… another game was starting.
One I’ve yet to understand. That’s the thing with games, you never know who truly has the winning hand.
A heavy weight presses against my chest the closer I get.
Each step drives away any doubt that I have left.
How could Lenny want to erase all of this?
This is our home. It didn’t matter that the buildings were old, and outdated.
The barrio is full of history. Who we are.
You know what they say you can take the girl out of the hood but never the hood out of her.
And even though I’m excited to be back. I’m still running only this time— for freedom.
It didn’t take much for Abuelo to convince me when he called to ask me to come back and help out with the bodega.
I couldn’t think of a better opportunity to leave.
After all the cheating and the lies, Lenny’s plan to bulldoze the building and make a commercial center was the final nail to hit the coffin.
The idea of him being okay with all of this sickened me in a way that made me terminal.
There was no going back for me. We were done the moment the word condemn slipped past his lips.
Leaving was the only rational answer then, even if it meant running back to the place I’d swore never to return to.
Yet, there’s something in my heart that tells me this is where I belong. Where I need to find myself.
The sound of sharp clapping has me looking at the girls, playing numbers as they jump.
I stop to admire the ease in which they move.
Until the ropes tangle around the little girl's leg, almost causing her to fall. Once they notice me watching, they all grow quiet and just stare. One in particular I immediately recognize as Ella. She was only five when I left, small and so in love with the Disney princesses. Now, she looks older, taller, and her features remind me so much more of her mother. There’s no doubt that’s Rosita’s daughter.
I swallow hard… pressure building behind my eyes as I see a flash of recognition within her eyes that tells me she remembers me too.
“Nana?” Ella whispers, her brows pulling together.
I nod softly, confirming—I’m indeed her Nana, the girl who used to babysit her. She could never say Adriana, so Nana was the closest she ever got. Ella's lips stretch into a smile before jumping over the rope and running straight into my waiting arms.
I can already hear the whispers as people begin to notice that Adriana Santos is back in the barrio. And I hate it. I’ve never liked having my life inspected under a microscope or the constant rumors that circled throughout the block. Yet, here I am.
The girl who promised never to come back had to swallow her words.
My hands run down her arms. “You've gotten so big. You were so tiny when I left. What happened?”
But it’s not Ella who replies. It’s her mother, Rosita, my mother’s best friend. I barely manage to hold back the years of grief clawing its way up my throat. Slowly, I shift my body towards the woman who was there for me when my mother couldn’t be.
“Time, that's what happened. It’s good to see you, mija.”
My gaze roams over her, noticing she still looks the same as I remember. Same round face, red lips, and warm brown eyes. Sure, she’s aged a bit, but it’s only made her even more beautiful.
“Good to see you too, Rosita,” I murmur softly, shifting in place, not sure if I should hug her in the way I would as a young girl. Her arms open wide and, with a smile, she says, “Come here, girl.” Rosita invites me into her embrace. Ella steps away, allowing her mother and me to hug.
“Oh, how I've missed you, Tita,” I whisper, using a nickname I’ve called her since I was a kid.
My eyes shut for a moment, soaking in her warmth, allowing it to soothe over me like running water—everything feels like before.
Neno is still alive. My mom is still full of life.
And my Abuelo isn’t on his deathbed. Like always, the grief presses deeper into my chest making it impossible to ignore.
I lost so much, and being here is only a reminder of it.
I couldn’t just say no to Abuelo’s request to help with the bodega.
This is all I have. The small fragments of my family.
I couldn’t leave my mom alone through this…
not again. I’m all she has left, and well… she’s all I have.
My eyes flutter open, and the two bodegas come into full view. Sitting right across from each other—Santos Colmadon and Cruz Market. Still sharing the same block and the same lifetime of bad blood. That’s gotten worse with time by the looks of it, given the two signs placed in each corner.
One reading, “Don’t trust the sazon of a man who can’t settle down.”
While the other reads, “I’m not Dominican, papi… I can cook.”
It’s hard not to laugh at the petty insults.
Curiosity blooms, when did it become so playful.
The last time I was here, things were tense between the families.
I was eighteen years old and stupidly in love with a boy whom I had no business loving.
The thought alone is enough to make me burn with emotions I have no reason to cling to.
Yet, it’s hard to forget the look on someone's face when you rip out their heart without saying a single word.
Guilt lodges in my throat, choking me with a bitterness that makes me wince.
Rosita pulls away first, her hand finding mine.
She gives it a little squeeze and laughs, pointing at the sign.
“Those two are ridiculous,” she grumbles.
But I’m too busy trying to regulate my breathing that I don’t respond.
My heart continues to race like it’s trying to escape from the confines of my chest. I told myself I was ready.
That nothing here can hurt… or surprise me anymore.
Only for the words to smack me in the face when the door swings open.
And he steps out. Yael Cruz.
Older. Broader. Shoulders filling the doorway as he grew into every inch of the man he was always going to become.
I take him in, noticing all the new ink that adorns his golden brown arms, then my gaze finds his.
Holding me hostage. It’s impossible to move, let alone breathe.
I drink him in like a cold Presidente, vestida de novia*.
Cold and biting into my bones with every sip.
The same scar I traced time after time, sliced through his thick brow, rises in surprise.
Those rich brown eyes glimmer with emotions I can decipher—still making me weak in the knees—and softening at the sight of me.
I almost faint.
We both remain motionless, time moves awfully slow, and the music dips.
Even the pigeons seem to pause mid–strut, noticing the tension that crackles in the air like static.
My heart slams into my ribs, trying its hardest to reach into his.
The years between us collapse in an instant.
Every memory. Every mistake. Every reason I left slams into me all at once.
My chest tightens, emotions swirling so fast I can barely breathe.
And just like that, he’s the first to look away…
but not before I feel it. The same shift that happened all those years ago on this very sidewalk.
That small spark that grew into a consuming wildfire.
The first domino of this new game tips forward, and he walks towards the small square table where a group of men play loudly.
And I return my attention to Rosita, who gives me a sympathetic look.
Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything; if anything, she lets go of my hand, encouraging me to move towards the place that holds so many ghosts.
Santos Colmadon.