Page 63 of Along Came Amor
I don’t want to be married to you anymore.
God, when was she going to get those words out of her head?
“Ava? ¿Cómo te sientes?” Esperanza’s brow creased, and Ava wondered how long she’d been silent, letting the news sink in.
“Fine, Abuela. Estoy bien.”
She was fine. Of course she was fine. She was always fine.
And when she wasn’t fine, she knew where to turn.
“I have to fix the chocolate fountain,” she told her grandmother, and her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears.
Esperanza pulled her down to kiss her cheek. “Cuídate, nena. I’ll pray for you.”
“Gracias, Bwela.” The reply was robotic, and as Ava headed for the doors to the kitchen, she dimly registered that her legs were numb and the sound in the room was muted. She was in shock. Yes, that’s what this was. Shock.
And she didn’t fucking have time for it.
The initial shock gave way to anger. It had been more thantwo yearssince she and Hector had separated. When was shegoing to be allowed to forget about him and move on? The jerk had been so enmeshed in her family, she couldn’t even get away from mentions of him, even after all this time. Why the hell did she need to know he was getting remarried? He wasn’t part of her life anymore. She didn’twantto hear any updates about him.
Especially now—at an engagement party, surrounded by family members, when she was supposed to go stand in front of them in a few minutes to be announced as the maid of honor. Maid, not matron, becauseshe wasn’t married anymore. Chisme like this would spread like wildfire, and by the time she got to the dais, every Rodriguez relative in the room would be gazing upon her with pity.
She could hear it now.Pobrecita Ava. Her husband left her and now he’s getting married again and she’s all alone.
The thought of it made her sick.
She stared around her, at the photo backdrop and “She Said Yes!” banner—Ronnie’s doing—at the famous faces interspersed among her relatives, at the DJ booth where her second cousin Javi played a mix of classic salsa, pop hits, and typical Latin party music, at Michelle and Gabe tearing up the dance floor to “Suavemente.”
In Ava’s memories, Elvis Crespo would forever be the soundtrack to this moment.
Enough was enough. She needed something to look forward to after this emotional shitstorm. Slipping her phone out of the pocket of her dress, Ava opened her texts with Roman and wrote,Are you free tonight?And then, before she could overthink it, she added,I want to see you.
She hit send.
Something about the admission felt a little reckless, in a good way. It was more forward than she would typically be, but with Roman, she wasn’t afraid to be bold.
Roman. That sexy, attentive, sweetheart of a man. When she was with him, she felt like she was enough, just as she was. Not because she washelpful, not because she wasnice. Just because she was Ava.
She recalled what he’d said while they were watchingPride & Prejudicein his bed.
I’m just Roman. And you’re just Ava. That’s all we need to be.
She wasn’t Jane Bennett, or Charlotte Lucas, or Hector’s ex-wife.
She was Ava Rodriguez, goddammit. And she was done letting other people’s expectations define her.
One of the caterers slipped past her carrying a tray of ropa vieja sliders, and Ava deflated a bit. Okay, she still had some expectations to meet before New Ava could fully take the reins.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched into the kitchen to find the catering manager and demand—politely—that they fix the fucking chocolate fountain before anyone else in her family could nag her about it.
Chapter 19
Five Minutes Earlier
Roman found Ashton at the edge of the crowded dance floor and nudged him with his elbow. “Quite a party.”
Ashton let out a relieved sigh. “You made it.”
