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I can’t get over what Luciana did, and I honestly can’t worry about her until I fix my world with Ay. But I can’t help but miss Lux’s smile, our conversations, her body, or the way she touched me.

I look up, and there she is, on the TV playing in the background. There’s a feature on the gossip show that Ayla and Bron like to watch.

Last night, Mateo De La Cruz’s Cross Foundation held its annual gala. It was jam-packed with New York’s rich and famous emptying their wallets for children in the Dominican Republic. La creme de la creme showed up, including his off-again-on-again girlfriend, popular lifestyle influencer Lux Blake, also known as Bougie Girl. She hosted the event that managed to raise five million dollars.

I freeze, my hands on my keyboard. She’s wearing a barely there dress that hugs her curves and darkens in any explicit areas, leaving her long legs bare. The free-fall drop in my stomach is instant. She’s smiling up at Fabian Marte, the Emperors’ right fielder.

“Rumor is that she kept her distance from Mateo. She flirted with his teammate Fabian and was seen enjoying drinks with the Yankees’ centerfielder, Angelo Gomez. She obviously has a type: handsome, rich, and successful athlete. Then again, why would she go there, in that turquoise killer revenge dress, if it wasn’t to rub Mateo’s face in it?” the male anchor says.

The female anchor chuckles. “Honey, she may have kept her distance, but his eyes never left her. He stared at her all night, and when she presented him the award, he found every excuse to touch her hand and arm.”

The chef on the other side of the room chimes in. “Whoever says they don’t see this reconciliation coming needs goggles not glasses. She opened the door by agreeing to the interview earlier in the day and going to the gala. Sparks were flying. Whew.” He fans himself.

“I don’t know. She seemed really indifferent to me,” the female interjects again. “Though it’s always more fun when Lux and Mateo have drama, I hope she moves on to someone who’s not as skeezy as Mateo. I’ll admit I’m game for Fabian or Angelo. That would make it juicier.”

All three laugh while the world around me melts into a red haze. I go on my browser and search for the interview. It was posted to her YouTube channel. I struggle through watching it. Mateo makes attempts to flirt with her, practically eye-fucking her. It should’ve made me feel better that she stared at him with that blank look I hate so much when she directs it my way. Because there’s nothing blank about it. She was over it.

I close my laptop hard enough it should shatter the screen when the footage of her with Fabian and Angelo comes up.

It hurts that she’s flirting with other guys. It’s only been two days. How can she move on that fast? Did I mean so little to her? I can’t even picture another woman, and she’s on the way to moving on.

You dumped her. Did you expect her to sit here and cry for you?

My heart sinks. Yes, I broke up with her without thinking much about it, but she lied. I wasn’t the one who wronged her. But she’s moving like she was waiting for the first chance. She didn’t even try to convince me or talk to me. She hasn’t called me even once. Another woman who can put me away so quickly. I didn’t mean anything to her either. That’s what I get for trusting and for opening myself and my kid up when my instincts have always cautioned me against it.

You broke up with her. You pushed her away.

The text from Adri comes through, snapping me out of my self-pity.

Adri

We are two minutes away.

I turn off the TV. I want to talk with Ayla when she comes in. I go downstairs to thank Adri. When I get to the sidewalk, A and Bron are hugging like the world is ending, and they’re seeing each other for the last time.

My gaze meets Adri, and she’s shaking her head. She mouths the word dramatic, and for the first time today, I feel a little bit of a smile. Something is as it should be. Teenage best friends being drama queens.

We thank Adri and Bron and wave them away. I put my hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go inside.”

She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes and swallows. “Okay.”

We go up the stairs, and she stands in the middle of our family room like she doesn’t know where to go.

“You can put your things away, and I’ll wait for you here. I want to talk to you.”

She nods and turns but then drops everything and turns around. “I’m so sorry, Papi. I didn’t want to betray you. I just wanted to talk to Noris, and I knew you wouldn’t like it. I wouldn’t have gone away like she wanted me to?—”

I hold my hand up, and she halts. There’s so much desperation there, and she’s really just a little girl.

“Ayla, breathe. Let’s focus.” My words are measured.

“But I need you to know—” she sobs.

And now I’m hurting like before. I cross the room and hug her to me. I kiss her hair and temples. “Don’t cry like this. Let’s sit down.”

She tries to pull away. “I’ll go put my stuff away.”

“Leave it. It’s not important right now,” I say, moving us toward the couch.