Page 63 of Hate That Blooms
“I’ll never stop being sorry, Joaquín. But I understand. And I hope you can find peace with it.”
I stand up, pushing the chair back. “I already am,” I say, turning to leave. “Goodbye, Mom.”
And just like that, I walk away.
* * *
The drive home is quiet, the world outside moving in fast forward while I sit still in my thoughts. I feel lighter in some ways. The weight that’s been sitting on my chest isn’t gone, but it’s not as heavy. I feel like I’ve done something for myself, not for anyone else.
Gabriela was right. I needed to do this for myself.
When I get home, I pull out my phone and text Gabriela . I don’t expect her to respond right away, but I need her to know. I need her to know that I did it.
I did it. Met with my mom. Forgave her. But I’m not letting her back in. I just need to move on.
It feels strange. But also kind of freeing.
I hit send and set the phone down.
I feel like I’m finally breathing again.
Chapter40
Gabriela
It’s funny how something as simple as a birthday party can make you feel like you’re about to step into a minefield. I’ve been planning Mireya’s fourth birthday for weeks with Cora—decorations, cake, balloons, party favors—but there’s this knot in my stomach that won’t loosen. The guest list is already a little awkward. My friends, Mireya’s classmates, no family, and, of course, Joaquín.
I texted him the other day asking if he would come to her birthday party at the bowling alley. Unsure of where we stand, I know he loves her, and she adores him.
He almost immediately texted me back.
I’ll for sure be there.
I could have not invited him and made some excuse, but I didn’t. I didn’t because Mireya deserves this. She deserves to have him there. And if I’m being honest with myself, I need to see what this will look like.
I can’t shake the feeling that Joaquín is waiting for some kind of opening. An opportunity to apologize again or to fix things between us. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything that happened—about how much I love him, about how he hurt me, and about how everything went wrong so quickly. But even though the scars are still there, they’re fading. In the light of all that’s happened, I’m understanding that people can change.
That I can change, too.
That the hurt, like flowers lying dormant in the winter, with some time and love, can bloom into something beautiful.
* * *
The party is set up in the bowling alley’s private party room, and I asked them to dim the lights and keep the music low. There are a few tables covered in colorful tablecloths, and balloons float around in the air like they’re marking a celebration. Mireya is in the middle of everything, her little hands grabbing at the presents and the cake, her energy boundless. It’s hard to keep up with her sometimes, but it’s worth it just to see the smile on her face. She’s happy.
That’s what matters today.
I check the time again. Joaquín is supposed to be here soon. Part of me wants to text him to make sure he’s coming, but I don’t. I know he’ll show up. He always does.
Mireya squeals, jumping up from the table and running towards the archway to the main part of the bowling alley. Standing there is Joaquín, a smile on his face and a gift bag in hand. He bends down and picks her up, whispering something into her ear that makes her smile.
He walks in, looking more put together than I expected. His hair is still a little messy from the breeze outside, and he’s wearing a casual flannel button-up, but he looks good. I try not to notice the way he stands tall and confident, like he belongs here. He doesn’t make any big announcements or try to take over the scene. He just... shows up.
I can see the hesitation in his eyes as he approaches me. He stands there for a moment, holding Mireya, looking around like he’s unsure of where to start. I know that look—like he’s waiting for something to be said. For me, to tell him where to go, what to do.
“Hey,” I say, giving him a small smile. It’s not as wide as I would have liked, but it’s a start.
“Hey,” he replies, his voice low. “Everything looks great. Looks like a great turnout.”
