I fucking got it.
When Z gambled away the shop, he didn’t just ruin my life. He threw a helluva wrench in hers too. And Gael’s, Ramiro’s, and Reina’s.
They’d all believed in me and turned down other stable positions to work at my shop. Then suddenly they were scrambling for whatever work they could find in a post-pandemic economy with rent in Austin climbing every Goddamn month.
Ximena had to move back in with her aunt for almost a year.
So yeah, I got why she needed space from my drama and bullshit. Why they all had.
I take a breath and answer. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Ximena’s voice is light, but there’s still that tiny edge of careful distance that wasn’t there before everything went to shit. “You on the road?”
“Yeah, headed to the conference.”
“The tattoo conference in Corpus, right?”
“That’s the one.” The lie tastes like ash, but I keep my voice steady.
“Cool, cool.” There’s a pause. “So, uh, Elio’s talking about expanding the shop. He wants me to come in as manager.”
“Ximena, that’s fucking amazing!” And I mean it. The relief that washes over me is genuine—she’s landing on her feet. They all are, slowly. “When do you start?”
“Probably next month. Better benefits, better pay. And I wouldn’t have to deal with Chad, the Walking HR Violation anymore.”
“Thank Christ. That dude’s a fucking bastard.”
“Right?” she laughs, and for a second it feels like before. Like we’re just two friends talking shit. “Ramiro’s been picking up steady work too. And Reina just got hired at that new shop on South Congress.”
“That’s great. Really great.” I mean it, but there’s a knot in my chest. They’re all moving forward. Without me. Which is what I wanted for them, but still.
“Yeah. We’re getting there.” Another pause. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
My stomach tightens. “What’s up?”
“I heard you’re seeing Z again.”
Fuck. “Who told you that?”
“Gael saw you guys at the park with Bruiser last week. He said it looked… cozy.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. “We’re trying to figure things out. For Bruiser’s sake.”
“Harper—”
“He’s been clean for two years, Ximi. Two years. He shows up every week to see Bruiser, passes every drug test, and goes to his meetings?—”
“I don’t give a shit if he’s been clean for ten years,” she bites out. And there it is. The anger I’ve been waiting for. The anger she has every right to. “That man didn’t just fuck you over. He fucked all of us over.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re about to let him do it again.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?” Her voice cracks just slightly. “Harper, I spent a year avoiding you because I was so fucking angry I couldn’t see straight. You know how hard that was? You’re my best friend. But every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I had to beg Dani to let me move back home without paying rent because your stupid fucking boyfriend gambled away our fucking jobs.”
The words hit like a fist to the gut. “Ximena, I’m so sorry?—”