Him: Zuri, I’m sorry about everything.
Me: . . .
Him: Sorry about Warren too. I know you liked him.
Me: Don’t apologize for Warren. He’s an asshole. You proved your point.
Him: I wasn’t trying to prove anything.
Me: . . .
Him: You and him still a thing?
Me: We’re nothing. You did see me curse him out, didn’t you?
Him: I couldn’t miss it. It was epic.
Me: . . .
Him: Can we have a do-over?
Me: . . .
Him: Please, Zuri Luz Benitez. ZZ.
Me: . . .
Him: ???
Me: I’ll give you another chance. But you best step up your game.
Him: ☺☺☺
Madrina left her apartment door unlocked for me.
“Madrina!” I call out as I’m staring at Darius’s texts. “I got your soup! And it’s bisque, not el bisqué. It’s a fancy word for soup.”
She doesn’t say anything and I look up from my phone and towards her bedroom. “Madrina?”
“I heard you, mi amor,” she says with an unusually raspy voice. “Just put it down, okay? Gracias, mija.”
She coughs a couple of times as I start to reply to Darius’s last text. But I don’t send anything. I walk out of Madrina’s apartment with my head in a shimmery pink fog. I read Darius’s texts over and over again as I climb the steps, almost tripping.