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Rosa’s never been dumped before. She thought she would be better at it.
Rosa knows how to break up with people. She doesn't start unnecessary drama. She's not overly emotional. Ever since her relationship with Marcus, she actually lets her exes talk about their emotions. She's never been dumped, but she's seen firsthand how people act when they are and knows she’d never make the same mistakes. She would have seen it coming - she wouldn’t be caught off guard, like Marcus. She wouldn't be crying, like Adrian. She wouldn't have kept asking what she did wrong, like Kaitlin, who she dated for a short bit before she came out. She wouldn't be insisting they try again, try just a little bit longer, like Alicia.
Then Jocelyn breaks up with her and Rosa does all of the above.
It would be ironic if it wasn't quite so painful.
She doesn't see it coming, although in retrospect, maybe she should have. There were warning signs. There was that time when Jocelyn came to the precinct before her trip, that time at brunch when Rosa raised her voice at a remark about it being a shame they don't do this more often and Jocelyn turned all quiet. There were more conflicts and petty arguments after that. Always about the same things - Rosa's job taking too much time, Rosa having to cancel last minute because of a case, and in the end, Rosa not being fully there when she was there. Those arguments were resolved, though. Rosa would apologize, promise she'd be better in the future. She’d make an effort and things would improve. They were happy, and Rosa’s ashamed of how baffled she gets when Jocelyn says no, it's for real this time.
She cries. No desperate screams or hysterical bawling, but there are tears in her eyes from the first word Jocelyn speaks and she hears her voice breaking as she tries to form apologies, protests, stop whatever is happening before it's too late. She asks what she did wrong, if there's anything she can make better, and Jocelyn patiently explains how their needs just don't work together and Rosa says but I want them to and Jocelyn shakes her head. She insists they try again, promises she'll work less, be more present, if only she can get another chance. Jocelyn says she's given Rosa too many chances. Then she leaves without even slamming the door, pretending like she didn't just become the first person to dump Rosa Diaz.
Rosa drinks two glasses of whiskey and a shot of tequila. It burns, but it numbs, and it gets her through the quick process of collecting all the things from her apartment that either belonged to Jocelyn, were given to her by Jocelyn or just remind her too much of Jocelyn, and putting them in different bags. A spare makeup bag, a collection of travel-size hair products, various items of clothing Jocelyn kept in one of Rosa’s drawers. Old gifts - a mug that says Certified Nancy Meyers Expert, a hand-crafted photobook, matching jewelry that Rosa made for them. The items that are Jocelyn’s go in a bag to be dropped off outside her house, and the gifts, in a moment of fury and frustration, go in the trash. After that, Rosa goes to bed, allowing the numbness lull her into a false sense of security that lets her sleep.
Her first thought the next morning is that her head hurts. Her second thought is that the bed’s too cold, and she’s spread out in a way that feels wrong. She reaches for her phone and is two seconds away from sending Jocelyn a text message to say good morning and tell her she misses her before she remembers.
She deletes Jocelyn’s contact picture - a cheesy selfie of them both - and the double pink heart emoji, not added by Rosa, from her name. Suddenly, phone contact Jocelyn Price with a grey-and-white avatar could be anyone. An old acquaintance, a neighbor, or someone entirely unimportant. Rosa pretends it’s true.
She’s grateful she’s working a double homicide. A tough case is exactly what she needs, something to take her focus and let her dive deep into figuring out someone else’s problems rather than her own. She’s also grateful she’s working with Charles, who is observant enough to tell something’s off but too respectful slash terrified to ask what, and instead tells her every detail about Nikolaj’s school performance whenever there’s a moment’s silence. Rosa loses herself in the case, working their final leads until she knows which suspect did it, and through some miraculous twist of fate, one hour later they have a confession.
It’s barely past three in the afternoon.
“Fantastic work, guys,” Terry applauds them, and Charles looks pleased with himself while Rosa just shrugs. “You know what? You can go home early today.”
“But why?” Rosa spits out, and Charles narrows his eyes at her before leaving.
“You solved the case - excellent job, Diaz - and the precinct seems calm. Go ahead, take the night off.” Terry smiles. “Have a date night with Jocelyn! Make dinner! Buy her flowers! Whatever you guys like to do!”
“Fine,” she wheezes, but Terry seems oblivious to her bitterness.
“Have a fun night!” He grins, and Rosa fantasizes about grabbing his suspenders and snapping them against his pecs hard enough for it to hurt.
She goes to the gym instead. Rosa usually prefers workouts that keep her flexible and agile over anything else, but today she needs to let out the anger. She warms up, gets gloves and finds a punching bag and then she’s hitting it with strike after strike until she’s dripping with sweat. It’s probably cliché to release anger through boxing, but it works and it’s legal and better than trying to feel her feelings. She lets the anger and frustration come out through the cross-punches and side-kicks, lets it leave her body as she tires herself out, and she exercises until her arms and legs are shaking and she realizes that she’s not just mad at Jocelyn, she’s also mad at herself.
Jocelyn broke up with her, implying Rosa’s the one who made mistakes. Rosa’s her own reason she lost something so precious and important to her. She’s heartbroken and humiliated, and apparently, it’s her own fault for not trying hard enough. It’s her fault she lost her first stable relationship after coming out, her fault she lost a person she could imagine a long time, maybe even forever with. She lost her girlfriend who was funny and genuine and the best snuggle partner, lost long mornings in bed talking about everything and nothing, lost late nights drinking wine and making out. She lost surprise dates and sweet texts, going out to dinner and having company at Shaw’s, lost a life they had built together.
She lost the person who was there when she wasn’t talking to her parents. Jocelyn listened to her when Rosa confided in her about all the times her parents had let her down before, kicked her out, ignored her cries for help until she didn’t believe she was worthy of support in the first place, and then she told her she deserved better. Rosa hadn’t known what to say to that, but Jocelyn didn’t seem to mind, and Rosa had loved her more for it.
She lost the first person after Adrian she could see herself getting married to. Even doing the whole white dress and fancy reception thing, if Jocelyn wanted that. Rosa's never been sure about kids, knows she doesn’t want biological ones, but Jocelyn had made her picture a future where they could adopt or become foster parents. Rosa likes the thought of offering someone the safe and supportive home she never had herself, and Jocelyn seems like a good person to do that together with.
Seemed. Not seems. Because everything they had, and everything she thought might be in their future, Rosa lost.
She leaves the gym when her whole body’s weak from exertion and tears are burning behind her eyelids. It's still just four-thirty p.m.
She buys dinner from a poké bowl place to go and eats it in front of The Holiday. Rosa’s a firm believer that a Nancy Meyers movie can cure just about everything, and although she remembers watching this one just a few weeks ago with Jocelyn, it does a good job of serving as a comfort blanket. No ex gets to ruin Nancy Meyers for Rosa Diaz.
She keeps checking her phone for texts throughout the evening, and then stopping herself from sending them when there aren’t any. Once she finishes her meal, she archives Instagram pictures where Jocelyn appears, trying to reaffirm the removal of this person from her life. She thinks of deleting them entirely, but something stops her. The posts are left archived.
The end credits to The Holiday have just started rolling when a text message pops up from presumable stranger Jocelyn Price.
Hey. I packed your stuff. Can I come drop it off and get my things? I can be there in half an hour.
There are no hearts or emojis. There always used to be. Rosa used to joke about them, say she wonders how Jocelyn communicated at all before they existed, but now the lack of them is a sharp sting in her chest.
She can’t imagine seeing Jocelyn right now, so she turns off the TV and leaves a key under the doormat.
It hits her as she gets in the car that she has no idea where to go. She doesn’t want to talk to her parents, so home’s not an option. She could go to Shaw’s and drink in silence, but she’s not feeling like hiding from chatty coworkers. She’s already been to the gym and she doesn’t need groceries. She supposes she could let the car radio blast death metal and just drive, but she’s got work tomorrow and Brooklyn evening traffic sucks, so there’s not much point to that either.
She figures Gina will be busy, because she’s always busy nowadays, but it’s worth a try. She texts a simple Can I come over? and waits.
It takes fifteen minutes before the reply comes. In those fifteen minutes, Rosa has stared at her currently violet-painted nails until she's convinced they’re the ugliest thing seen to date, booked an appointment with her nail technician the next day, and played five levels of Candy Crush.
Sorry boo, Gina's text reads. Milton just came over with Iggy and I haven't seen her in a week so I really wanna spend some time with her. We should hang out soon though, I miss you!
It hadn't occurred to Rosa that Gina would be with Iggy. It makes her feel guilty - what sort of friend doesn't remember her friend’s kid? - but she figures that's a direct effect of not having a family of her own to prioritize. Hell, she doesn't even have a partner anymore. What does she know?
Rosa thinks of the comment Gina made upon her coming out as bi. In another lifetime, you and I would have made a hot-ass couple. Maybe she’s right, but they're in this lifetime, where even Gina, who used to go about relationships so similarly to Rosa, has a family of her own. Everyone in Rosa's friend group has at least a serious partner to accommodate for. Everyone, except as of twenty-four hours ago, Rosa herself.
She's not the jealous type, and she certainly doesn’t see her life as being worth less without a partner or children, but the distinction stings nonetheless. She hadn't realized how much she valued at least being in a serious relationship when it came to that feeling of inclusion, something giving her a sense of not being completely behind in the race to society's ideal life. It doesn't seem to matter how much Rosa tells herself she’s never cared for it; the race exists anyway, and she just took a big jump backwards while everyone else keeps racing ahead.
She texts Amy next.
Hey. Can I come over?
The phone vibrates in the next second, but it’s not Amy who replies - it’s another text message from Jocelyn.
Got my things and left yours, key’s under the doormat. Thanks.
No emojis again. Whatever’s happening seems to be for real, and Rosa clenches her fists and presses her nails into her palm to avoid smashing something. Then she writes Amy a second message.
Jocelyn broke up with me.
The reply comes only a minute later.
Of course you can come over. Are you okay?
Rosa doesn’t bother answering before driving.
“Jake's with Charles,” Amy explains as she lets Rosa in. “Sorry about the mess - I’m working on a binder for the new car.” She gestures to a neat setup on the kitchen table. Not exactly what Rosa would call a mess.
“You can finish it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, no, it’s fine! Honestly. I should try to do this with Jake anyway,” she explains, already starting to put away the papers. “Try being the crucial word, but still. Anyway, I guess you want to drink in silence? I shouldn’t really have alcohol, but I can get you something.”
Rosa raises an eyebrow, and Amy gives her a timid smile. “Just trying to keep that egg quality up.”
“It’s okay. I drove here anyway.”
“Right. Well, I also have… tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Wait, do you drink hot chocolate? ”
“Tea’s fine.”
“Great!” Amy shines with a little too much enthusiasm before bundling the last of the papers together and holding them to her chest. “I’ll put away these. You can put on some hot water, there’s tea and mugs in the cupboard left of the sink. We have way too many, so pick your favorite.”
She disappears into the hallway with her papers as Rosa looks through their tea collection. It's pretty bleak. There's a jar of random tea bags that seem to have been collected from various restaurants, a package of Earl Grey, a green tea with lemon and something called conception tea which looks expensive and apparently tastes like sweet mint. Rosa opts for the regular green tea, choosing a mug at random and taking a new one once she realizes her first choice has Team Peraltiago written on it in Charles’ handwriting. There’s one painted in the colors of the bi flag, possibly by coincidence - she’s never been sure about how much self-insight Jake has in these things - but she goes for it anyway. She nearly knocks over two tiny jars of what look to be fertility supplements, one with a pink label and one with a blue, as she takes it out.
She reads through the papers on their fridge as she lets the tea steep. There’s a wedding invitation for someone named Santiago, maybe a cousin. An invite to Nikolaj’s birthday party, grocery store coupons, and a printed list of foods that boost sperm count and egg quality. Walnuts. Spinach. Broccoli. Salmon.
Gross, she can read Jake’s scrawly handwriting on the paper. I’m not eating any of that.
Yes you are, she recognizes Amy’s neat writing beneath.
Fine, it says below that in the messy writing. But it’s just because I love you. An uneven heart has been drawn next to it.
Love you more, reads the neat handwriting after the heart. Rosa gets a sharp pang of missing Jocelyn and checks her phone again. No new messages.
Amy comes back without the papers and Rosa looks away from the fridge, pretending like she wasn't just reading their personal conversations. She sits down on the new couch instead, waiting as Amy makes her own cup of tea before joining her.
“I don’t want to talk about my breakup,” Rosa says, a little snappy. “No emotional questions. No asking why. No asking what happened.”
Amy nods slowly. “Can I ask if you’re okay?”
“Sure.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know,” she grunts, and takes a sip of the tea. It tastes too bitter, like the cheap kind you get in waiting rooms where it’s been bought in multi-packs and everyone’s already picked out the good flavors. She makes a note to buy Amy some better tea for Christmas. “Just forgot how bad breakups were.”
“You didn’t see it coming?”
Rosa shoots her friend a warning glare, and she mumbles a quiet apology.
“No. I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” says Amy, and there’s such a genuine level of care and sympathy conveyed in her tone that Rosa accepts it.
“So am I.” A wave of regret follows the confession, or maybe it’s just pain. Either way, it makes her grimace. “Can we talk about something else? Please?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Rosa’s gaze falls to a thick book about pregnancy on the coffee table, a pink post-it note sticking out from a few pages in. “Tell me about how the trying to get pregnant thing is going.”
Amy scrunches her forehead. “You really want to know about that?”
“Well, I don’t have to know the details about your sex life -”
“I wouldn’t tell you those anyway -”
“- but yeah. How’s it going? I know Jake’s over the moon, but how are you?”
Amy seems to consider the question for a bit, moving her hands around the teacup and chewing on her lip. “Scared. And excited,” she’s quick to fill in, as if she feels guilty to admit the former on its own. “So excited. But nervous. It’s impossible to prepare for, and I hate not being prepared.”
“You bought a car.”
“Bought a new couch, bought a car, researched OB-GYNs and preschools,” she lists off, nodding. “I made a checklist, so we’re going through as much of that as possible before. There’s a lot left, though.”
“That stresses you?”
“A little. It all got so real so quickly.”
“I get what you mean,” Rosa says, although she's not sure she does. “Does Jake know you're stressed?”
“He suggested we make the checklist so I could feel in control. So he knows. He helps. I would've been a lot more stressed without him.” Amy twists the rings on her left fourth finger, adjusting the stone on the engagement ring.
There’s a faraway look in her eyes, and Rosa can see her friend's lips form the content, somewhat secretive, smile that used to follow the double tuck, but now comes in a stronger, more obvious form whenever she talks about Jake. It’s one of the few things Rosa’s never been tempted to make fun of her for, too full of complete and unadulterated love for it to be worthy of laughter. Tonight, though, it makes her jealous.
“You know what’s weird?” Amy doesn’t wait for Rosa to reply before launching into an explanation. “I’m scared about a billion things. Like whether or not I can get pregnant in the first place, if the baby will be healthy, whether or not I’ll be a good mom to them. That’s not something you can read about in a book! I could learn everything there is to know about infants and I could still be unsure of how to take care of my own. That terrifies me.” She takes a deep breath.
“But I still want it so much. Even more now, because seeing Jake so excited about it makes me so much more excited. I can’t wait to take that step in our life. So even though it’s crazy, and there’s so much left to do, and every month I think it’s okay if it hasn’t worked yet because it means I’ll have a little more time to prepare - I’m so disappointed when I get my period, I swear I want to punch something.”
“Wow.”
“Mm-hmm.” Amy chuckles. “I mean, I haven’t. Punched anything yet. But I really hope it works soon.”
“Hence the supplements and weird tea?” Rosa eyes her friend’s teacup.
“Yeah. Probably all placebo, but it can’t hurt, right?”
“I guess not,” Rosa mumbles.
A comfortable silence settles between them after that. Rosa’s reminded of late nights in the same apartment three years ago, when Jake and Holt were in witness protection and Adrian was hiding somewhere. Amy and Rosa had begun a tradition of drinking tequila and watching Nancy Meyers movies together on nights when both of them felt a little too lonely, and sometimes Amy would vent and Rosa would listen. They’d been in the same place then; existing in the no man’s land of being in a serious relationship with someone you loved so much, but unable to speak to them, forced to lie to your friends and family if they asked. It had been a comfort to know someone out there who got it when nobody else did, and it made them grow that much closer. They were living identical nightmares, after all.
Now Rosa can’t imagine their lives looking any more different. Amy’s married, to the same person she was already with at that time, and they’re trying to have a baby together. Rosa almost got married to Adrian, then she didn’t, then she went to prison and they broke up. She came out as bi, had two short relationships before meeting Jocelyn, and now she’s just been dumped for the first time in her life.
Rosa doesn't have a problem with her life being different from other people's. It always has been.
She didn't grow up with the safe, supportive parents all her friends seemed to have, and at times she thinks she's never searched for or expected that love from someone else, either. If she survived without it then, she can survive without it now.
She didn't know she wanted to become a cop at first, so she tried to put herself through med school and business school and aviation school before finding her calling. It was confusing, cost her a small fortune and made her wish she could just decide, but it also gave her enough of a variety of skills to make sure she would never have to depend on anyone for anything.
She’s not against marriage with the right person, can imagine adopting or taking in foster kids in the same situation, but neither has ever been the end goal.
She's not jealous of Amy, or Jake, or the life they're currently living. Rosa doesn’t need marriage or kids - all she’s jealous of is the clear path. Amy speaks about her future with security, a confidence of knowing something about what’s going to happen next and believing it will turn out okay. She might be worried and a little stressed, but she’s not lost.
Neither is Jake, who Rosa always expected would be like her, not following the beaten track. She’d found a kinship with him in that aspect. Both of them were outcasts with crappy families who dreamed of being heroes, taking down mafia bosses, dying heroically on the job. Neither of them imagined long-term partners, marriages or kids. It’s strange to think about the guy who once claimed he was definitely going to die alone being married to the love of his life, and stranger still to picture him adding sperm count-boosting foods into his diet because he’s trying to have a baby with her. Jake’s found his path. Rosa doesn’t have a clue of what hers looks like anymore.
Amy’s phone buzzes on the coffee table. She picks it up, making a noise like a quiet chortle and smiling before she starts typing. Rosa checks her own phone again, still feeling like there should be a message from Jocelyn there, but there’s no notifications other than Candy Crush telling her she just got new lives.
The empty screen hurts more than her jealousy of any beaten track, she realizes. Most of all, Rosa just misses Jocelyn already, because she should be picking up her phone at the same moment as Amy and there should be a sweet message there and she should be replying to it with that same smile on her face. Anything else feels wrong, despite the fact that it’s real, because she didn’t see it coming. She doesn’t feel like she got a say, and a familiar, ruthless voice in her head keeps whispering you fucked up and it’s your fault and now you’re suffering the consequences.
In all her earlier breakups, no matter how painful they’ve been, she’s been in control. Without that dimension and mental preparation, the missing is sharper, like the stab of a knife pushing deeper once she thought the worst was over. She’s angry, because if she’s not angry she doesn’t know how to survive, but beneath the anger lies a layer of shock and loneliness that hurts more than she thought a breakup could.
She thought she would be better at being dumped. Instead, she’s clutching her phone while tears take shape in her eyes, making their way down her cheeks before she can stop them.
“Rosa?” Amy’s biting her lip, quickly pocketing her phone and reaching for a packet of tissues on the coffee table. Rosa accepts one, wiping the tears away before crumpling it to a ball. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“I haven’t been dumped before,” she confesses, staring at the tissue to avoid eye contact. “Does it get easier?”
“Yeah.” Amy looks at Rosa in a way that makes her feel a bit like she’s a child being taken care of. It’s a little humbling, but it’s not an all bad feeling. “Yeah, it does. It just takes a while.”
“It hurts like hell.”
“I know.”
“I hate it,” Rosa mutters. “I didn’t get a fucking choice. I never knew how much of a difference that made.”
“Well, now you know. It sucks. But...” Amy leans her head to the side. “Maybe that’s a good thing, too?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If it hurts, that means it mattered, right? If you miss something, then there was something to miss in the first place. It means you opened yourself up and built something of meaning with someone. I know that doesn’t make it easier -”
Rosa snorts. “No, it doesn’t.”
“But it might mean that something can matter again,” Amy says, fixing her eyes on Rosa’s. “Someday. Even if it feels impossible right now.”
Rosa's not sure what to say, so she sits quiet instead. Amy coughs.
“That was cheesy, sorry. I can just get you a drink instead -”
“I thought I’d be better at this,” Rosa repeats, ignoring Amy. “I mean, I’m great at dumping people.”
“Not as great of a brag as you think.”
“I just don’t know why it feels so different. Is it because I wasn’t prepared? Is it because I didn’t do it myself? It doesn’t make sense,” she spits out.
“It could be that,” Amy shrugs. “Or it could be that it meant a lot to you. It was your longest relationship after coming out, and you don’t really talk about things like these, but… sometimes it seemed like the happiest you’ve ever been with someone, too. Maybe that’s what makes it painful. Not that you got dumped.”
A couple of tears fall again. Rosa dries them away with the crumpled tissue. She thinks of last weekend, when Jocelyn stayed over and they woke up in the same bed next to each other. They’d stayed there for hours, needing nothing else in the world except each other’s presence. Jocelyn had wrapped her arm around Rosa and kissed her forehead and she’d snuggled into her girlfriend’s chest, and it had been safe and warm and she’d thought of how, in a perfect reality, she’d want to wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.
She’d never pictured forever with someone before. In bed that morning, it hadn’t even scared her.
She doesn’t care about the beaten track. She doesn’t mind that her life is different. In the end, she doesn’t care that she’s in the middle of her life and just got dumped while everyone around her kept on getting married and having kids and trying to fit into the perfect mold. She cares that she lost a person she didn’t want to lose, and it didn’t feel like she had a choice in the matter.
“Maybe,” she mumbles. “I… thanks. I should leave.”
“You can stay if you want,” Amy offers, nodding to the couch. “This folds out into an extra bed. Jake’s on his way home, but you know he wouldn’t mind.”
Rosa shakes her head, already standing up. “I should head home. But, uhm, thank you. Really.”
“Anytime. Sorry - I don’t know if anything I said helped.”
“It did.”
“Oh.” Amy blushes. “Wow. I’m glad?”
“Amy?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to be a good mom.” Rosa puts her teacup in the sink before going to put on her jacket. “Seriously. I know you’re scared, but you don’t need to worry about that. I mean it.”
Amy opens her mouth as if to say something, but Rosa holds up a hand to stop her and she nods instead.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rosa says, and then she's out the door before Amy can say anything back.
It's still a lonely experience, getting the key from underneath the doormat and seeing that all of Jocelyn’s things are gone. Rosa doesn't expect that feeling to disappear for a while, but maybe she’ll learn to live with it.
Rosa may not have been dumped before, but she has been left alone to fend for herself. She sends a text to Gina to ask if they can schedule something soon, and reminds herself as she goes to bed that this is different. She might not have a partner or kids or a perfect relationship with her parents, but she has her friends, and she may be lonely right now but she’s not alone.
Then she opens the anonymous-looking contact that used to be her favorite, and types in five words.
I’m going to miss you.
She waits for five minutes, but there’s no answer. She hovers over the block-button for a moment, wondering if it’s immature, then presses it anyway.
She’s just turned off her bedroom lamp when her phone buzzes again, and for a second her heart is in her throat until she remembers she just blocked Jocelyn. Jake’s sent a gif of two kittens hugging, and Amy’s written another message.
Thank you. ❤️
You’re going to be okay, Rosa. Call me if you need anything? Even if it's just someone to talk to.
Rosa sends a heart emoji back.
Rosa’s never been dumped before. She thought she would be better at it, but for now, she’s doing her best.