Page 140 of Wishing for La Luna
His name alone wakes up the fluttering in my belly. I went to bed thinking about him, about us, about the six-week consequence of our last time together.
It’s the size of a grain of rice with eyes, nose, and lips. Lungs and kidneys are developing, as the doctor told me.
“Is he going to be in trouble with the label?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. He told us yesterday, and there’s a clause in his contract that allows this. But I haven’t even listened to it. Let me go handle this. Before I go, your plan is perfect. Send it along with your resignation letter.”
For the first time all morning, I feel better. I textMamito tell her.
Me
Quitting this job. Going back to my roots.
Then I prep the package, write a standard resignation letter, and send both.
Victor calls me almost immediately, and the conversation takes over an hour. I’m firm on quitting. He’s disappointed and upset about it.
I thank him for the opportunity and hang up.
Mami
Just landed. Good girl. It’s not for you. Coming over this afternoon.
I check social media, and I’m confused. Thierry’s name is no longer on the top trending topics. His name was pushed way down by Rio. He’s trending number one, followed by Sangria, bloodletting,mi diosa, and then NikoEl Rebelde.
Mi Diosa?My heart starts pounding, but when I click the topic, all I find is people talking about Katya.
I switch to my notifications, and I see the mixtape alert. I navigate to his YouTube channel. The mixtape is pinned to the top of his page, and the cover image alone makes my stomach drop.
It’s the cliff atEl Cabito. He took the photo while we sat at the restaurant. It was right before we decided to jump—no, before I convinced him to jump.
I take my laptop and go sit on the couch. The second he starts speaking, goosebumps pop out all over my skin, from head to toe.
You brighten my way
So I can see the whip coming as you flog me
Now, I’m ready to bleed.
The pain in his voice brings tears to my eyes. It must be about his mom.
And then the first song kicks off, and he’s talking about a woman he doesn’t want to be attracted to.
If you don’t want me to kiss you, don’t open your mouth.
The Knicks game comes to mind. That’s when it dawns on me.Oh shit…that’s about us.
An hour later, I’m an emotional mess. He took me on a journey of what we lived through together, like I don’t go through it in my head at least twice every single day of my life.
I cry like I’ve needed to for months. Our love was real, palpable, beating. The last track tells me it’s over for him. It’s in all the details and the title: “Bloodletting.” He bled me out like I’m venom.
But I can’t do the same, because he’s in me so deep and alive. All I can do is cry and cry because it’s over. It hurts like hell. I bawl until the headache brews, and then I close my eyes. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I open my eyes again, my mom and Sel are in front of me, staring down at me like something is wrong.
“I’ve been calling you for hours, Luna. You text me that you’re quitting your job then don’t answer my calls, and this one”—she points at Sel, who is pale behind her—“is freaking out and won’t tell me why.”
The nausea rushes up my body, and my brain tells me to start running. I barely make it to the toilet. Everything comes up in waves until I’m coughing and crying at the same time.
I heave until my body calms down. Then, I get up, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I look in the mirror and try not to yelp at my reflection—swollen eyes in a gaunt face as I swish mouthwash.
