Chapter 29 #3
The front door beeps and then opens as Sel walks in with several bags in hand. She nods at us but keeps talking on the phone. “Yeah, I bought you the Portuguese rose water, Ma.” She looks down at her phone. “I gotta go, Luna’s finally calling me back. We have to talk business.”
Her name stirs anger in my chest. She can call Sel back but leaves me on read. I don’t need her insanity anyway.
“Hey, babe. Oh no,” Sel coos. “You’re still not feeling good. Fucking Hank gave you the Norovirus. How did you get noodles all over your floor?”
“Heeey, Luna,” Tito yells, smiling at me. “We miss you.”
I flip him off, which makes him laugh.
“Hold on,” Sel says, taking out her AirPods. “Tell him now.”
“Love you, Tito.” Her voice is soft and a little hoarse.
“Feel better, Prima.”
I want to punch the smile out of his face.
Sel smiles, and because she’s an agent of chaos, says, “Rio’s here too. Want me to put him on so you can say something to him?”
Luna doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, tell him I wish he was here. I would kiss him so I can shove each and every single one of these Norovirus germs down his throat. I want him to feel as good as I do right now. Maybe he can fucking dance it off and barf or shit himself onstage.”
“Luna,” Sel yells, tapping manically on the phone screen. “Stop, you’re on speaker.”
“I don’t give a fuck. I feel like shit and that fucker—”
Her voice cuts off.
Tito bursts out laughing. “Man, she sounds like my girl.”
Sel comes back to the sitting area, a little red and apologetic. “I’m sorry. She’s not feeling well. She beasts out when she’s sick—always has. And the Norovirus is no joke.”
I remember her in the hospital after she got drugged. She was nasty work back then, too.
“It’s fine. Tell her all I heard is that she wants to put her tongue back in my mouth.”
Sel’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “Hell no. I don’t gaslight my cousin when she’s sick. Luna has a temper.”
Tell me about it. I have the texts to prove it.
“I’m going to send her some soup from our fave Dominican restaurant. Let me call her back.”
She heads to the room, and Tito chortles. “Jesus, that was…something.”
I shrug like it’s no big deal. “I hope she feels better soon or not. I don’t care.”
But I jump on my phone. Maybe I’m crazier than her, because I’m on the site, ordering her something before I can question it.
“Want me to distract Sel so you can be Luna’s hero?”
And it’s almost pathetic the way I nod, and he springs to his feet.
Fuck, I’m a simp.
I go to my room and sit in my bed with my notebook in hand.
Soy prisionero
De tu Orgullo
De tu ira
De tu falta de corazon
A restless soul at your mercy
You beat my heart
Stomp on my feelings
Blame me for it
But I don’t run
At the first sign of distress
Stockholm kicks in
And I’m back begging
Praying
Wishing for you
Culpable
Te sentencio
You’re a killer
A murderer
With a ruthless heart
And a steady hand
Mataste un amor lindo
Es Rio, Mami
* * *
Luna
“Should I come home?” Mami asks.
I can barely lift my head from the back of the couch, but answer, “No. Of course not. I’m not a kid and you’re on your honeymoon.”
I’m so sick she’s probably the only one who can handle me and make me feel better when I’m like this.
“Mariposita, why don’t you talk things out with Rio?”
“I don’t need another reason to be aggravated.” My tone is so harsh, I regret it. “I’m sorry. You know how bad I get when I’m sick. The Rio era is over. He’s in Portugal with his new girlfriend.”
I get hot all over thinking of them last night. There are still so many ways I can cuss him out.
“Luna, you know what that is. You also haven’t mentioned Gio since the wedding.”
I take a sip of water, but it makes me gag, so I put the glass down. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”
“I know,” she says. “That’s my point. You can’t be with someone else and you’re not happy without him, so it’s worth a shot to try and work it out.”
I remind myself she doesn’t know about the night of her wedding or our text tirades, so of course she wants us back together. I can’t keep talking about this. I feel shitty enough. The doorbell rings and I see my out. “I miss you, Mami but I have to go. Someone’s at the door.”
It’s a delivery from Faye & Fleur and I let them into the building.
Then, drag my feet to the door slowly. I’m so weak, but Sel hinted she was sending me soup, and the excitement of that alone helps me go the distance.
When I open the door, I’m facing what can only be described as a white wall.
It takes two people to bring it into my living room.
They hand me an envelope but won’t take a tip from me.
“That’s been taken care of,” the man tells me.
I see them out. As they leave, a food delivery guy hands me a bag with handles. It’s from my favorite Dominican Restaurant. Sel came through! I smile and thank him. He won’t take my money either.
Then, I close my door and head to the dining room but the packaged white wall package takes up a big part of my living room.
I wonder if it’s from Gio. He messaged about going to dinner and I get this.
My stomach growls but I want to see what it is.
I place the envelope on the couch and cross the distance to stand in front of it. It’s almost my height.
I tear through a corner of the film and the flowery fragrance invades my senses. There are different colored roses. I need to see the whole thing so I tear the remaining film.
It reveals a framed arrangement of various colored roses, dahlias, and greenery, mixed with succulents, peonies, and berries. It takes my breath away, and without reading the card, I know this is not from Gio. I can only stare at it with my heart pounding in my throat.
I grab the card from the couch and sit. I open the small envelope and pull out the card.
I’ll take you whatever way I can get you, cooties and all. Throw out the flowers, if you want, but eat the food so you feel better.
My eyes well up immediately. How can he take me to radical emotional poles in a matter of seconds? We are in this dichotomy of beauty and disaster. And I want him with all my heart but it’s not good. Not the way we are now.
I eat my soup and fall asleep staring at the flowers. I wake up to their scent in the morning and I decide. I’m going to talk to him. We can’t have another episode like the one we had the other day.
I open my phone but my notifications are wild. Rio and Katya at a soccer game, laughing with beers in their hands.
The haze of red behind my eyelids is back with vengeance and I open my message app to his name and then stop.
No, I’m not going to do this again. I’m not going to freak out.
I know this is PR. I’m a publicist who knows exactly how it works yet I still react the way I do and that’s what’s mostly wrong. I need to stop this.
I navigate to his info on my phone and scroll down and block him.
Now I’m not tempted to text him and I’m not going to watch his concert videos either.