Page 42 of Along Came Amor
“Suit yourself. I’ll find out anyway.”
Knowing her, she probably would. Roman put his reading glasses back on and tried to focus on emails.
But all he could think about was what it would be like to attend the gala with Ava on his arm.
Chapter 11
February
Ava:Are you free tonight?
Roman:For you? Of course.
Ava exhaled in relief when Roman’s reply popped up. She was going to start climbing the walls if she stayed in tonight, and if she had to spend it with her family, she would scream.
It wasn’t her first wedding anniversary without Hector, but it was the first since the divorce had been made official. To make matters worse, for the past week her grandmother had been texting her old photos of Hector. Ava was on the verge of blocking Esperanza’s number.
Yes, she could have reached out to Jasmine or Michelle, or her mom or Damaris. It wasn’t like she didn’t have people in her life who cared about her. But they’d know what today was—why the hell had she gotten married the day before Valentine’sDay?—and they’d spend the whole night looking at her with worry in their eyes. Or worse,pity.
She couldn’t take it. Not tonight. Not when her feelings were already so close to the surface. Ava didn’tdobreakdowns. She didn’t do dramatic displays of emotion. Not even after Hector told her he was leaving. When she’d called her mother and Michelle to come over, she’d been calm. Okay, she’d probably been closer to catatonic, but she hadn’t yelled or cried or cursed. She hadn’t made a scene.
Even in the worst moment of her life, she’d behaved well. She’d beengood.
Be good, Ava.
How many times had she heard that phrase? Every time her mom dropped her off to visit her dad and his new wife. Or for sleepovers with Michelle at Titi Val and Uncle Dom’s house. Or when she had moved in with Esperanza and Willie.
Be good for Abuela.
Be good for Daddy and Olympia.
Be good for Titi Val.
Be good for your teachers.
Ava was so fucking tired of beinggood.
Not that being with Roman was about beingbad, per se. It was more about beingfree. Nothing she said or did with him would get back to her family, thus affecting their perception of her and her role in the Rodriguez dynamic.
Even her apartment, which was brand new and all hers, was a reminder of her divorce. It was a perfectly nice one-bedroom in a prewar elevator building. No, it wasn’t renovated, but there were new appliances in the galley kitchen, and Ava had made it cozy with a profusion of plants, a muted pink and cream colorscheme, and scented candles on every surface—all things Hector had hated.
But the only reason Ava lived here at all was because Jasmine had accidentally opened the door to the second bedroom in Ava’s old apartment and found it crammed with all the things Hector had left behind. Once her cousins had realized Ava was struggling to cover the rent on the two-bedroom she’d shared with Hector, they’d staged an intervention. Michelle had hired a moving company to box up Hector’s shit and drop it off on his mother’s porch, and Jasmine had enlisted her real estate broker to find a rental Ava could afford on her teaching salary. While Ava was grateful for their help, she also felt horribly guilty about inconveniencing them, not to mention embarrassed.
So no, she didn’t want to spend the evening sitting around the apartment that should have felt like home but didn’t, reminiscing about all the sad and shameful moments that had landed her here.
A night with Roman, making new, pleasurable memories, was amuchbetter alternative.
For security purposes, Ava shot Damaris a text.
Ava:I’m seeing him tonight.
Damaris:Where?
Bless Damaris for not asking why Ava was spending her anniversary with Roman.
Ava:At the Dulce Flor in Times Square.
Damaris:Check in tomorrow morning, please.
