25. Chapter 25

A/N: Edited 7/6/22 for spelling and grammar and to add a few details at the end of the chapter. Nothing plot-altering.

Please fasten your seatbelts, keep all hands, feet, and other objects inside the vehicle at all times, and remain seated until this chapter comes to a complete stop. Because it is a rollercoaster, ya'll.

Chapter 25

Bruno wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that their first dance was a cumbia. (1) On the one hand – it was simpler, he was less likely to trip over himself or her, and he didn't have to fret about where to place his hands because he barely touched her.

On the other hand – he barely touched her.

But though she seemed as hesitant as him at first – and he wasn't sure why, exactly, that was, and it only added to his nerves – as they got into the rhythm and matched each other's steps, they both relaxed and allowed the music to guide them. The small smile growing on her face gave his heart a little thrill.

They danced side by side, feet tapping and hips swaying, off to the side of the dance floor and away from the majority of the crowd that had congregated in the middle of the square. His movements gradually became just as controlled and graceful as hers. It was as though his muscles remembered the movements Pepa had drilled into him for years, even if his brain was preoccupied with not embarrassing himself. He saw Félix and Pepa deliberately break away from the crowd of dancers and move closer to the two of them, and Félix caught his eye, waggling his eyebrows, before demonstrating something a bit more daring. Bruno saw him from the corner of his eye, moving around Pepa with his arms spread wide, as though showing her off to the world. Bruno took a deep breath, and – attempting to ignore the fact that his face was probably aflame with embarrassment - did the same, spreading his arms and moving around Lucía. It was less flamboyant than Félix's move because his elbows were still tucked in by his sides, but it made Lucía happy.

Her smile brightened and she matched him, spreading her arms and spinning around him as well. They orbited each other like the Earth and moon going round the sun, before she took her skirt in her hands and lifted it slightly as she rolled her shoulders and hips to the beat, lifting her heels behind her and following him with her eyes.

And even though it wasn't exactly the way he was supposed to do it, he faced her for the rest of the dance, mirroring her steps, his eyes on hers the entire time.

Their next dance was a salsa. She enjoyed herself – she enjoyed herself immensely – but the entire time, she felt as though she was teetering on a precipice, clinging to a reality that was familiar and comfortable, afraid of what letting go might mean.

When their dances were over, she stammered her thanks for them, and he left her at the tables beside Isabela and Diego as Pepa pulled him out to demand a dance of her own. Lucía pressed her fingers to her cheek; they were so warm. Papá and Josefina had returned to the table too, as well as Dolores, Mariano, and Luisa. Papá begged off of another dance, and Mariano offered to dance with Luisa. She accepted shyly and Dolores plopped down beside Isabela, a huge smile on her face. When Agustín returned with Julieta, he asked Isabela to dance, and Julieta offered to hold Diego for Isabela.

Thus began a steady exchange of dance partners, as fathers and uncles offered to dance with their daughters and nieces, and sons asked their mothers and sisters and cousins for dances. After a glass of water (and, it must be admitted, a sip or two of the wine that was also flowing freely that evening), Lucía danced once with her padre, twice with Josefina, once with Diego when he decided he was brave enough to try, once with Lorenzo, and once with Agustín, who was not as high in demand as Félix. While he was perhaps not the most graceful of dancers, he was careful and did not attempt anything too ambitious, and aside from one misstep and one unfortunately placed elbow – which they both laughed off - she enjoyed herself.

She was peripherally aware of Bruno the entire time they were apart. Even when she couldn't see him, she could sense him, dancing with his hermanas and sobrinas. It was as though something inside of her was connected to him; as though a part of her followed him wherever he went.

It was disconcerting.

When she next returned to the tables for some refreshment, Dolores was holding Diego, and Señora Ruiz was beside her, keeping her company and discussing something related to her research and recent trip to San Cristobál. Josefina was sitting beside Papá, playing with a fork and looking bored, though she'd already danced with her madre and Abuelo and Tío Lorenzo and her primos. Bruno was just bowing after dancing with Mirabel, a grin on both of their faces. He ruffled her hair, mussing it slightly, and she pushed him lightly on the shoulder before fixing it.

As Mirabel gave her tío a quick hug and went off to dance with Isabela and Luisa, Bruno came up to the tables. He sat beside Lucía and sipped at a glass of water. His eyes kept darting to her and then back to the dance floor. When he was done, he leaned forward.

Her stomach fluttered in anticipation, but he surprised her again.

"Do you mind," he asked quietly, "if I ask Josefina for a dance?"

She blinked at him and smiled. "Of course I don't mind. Please do."

He stood and moved around the table to Josefina, his bow low and dramatic, and asked her for a dance. Her eyes lit up and she looked to her mamá for permission. Lucía nodded and readily gave it. Bruno led her a short way out, not far from the tables, and danced a simple salsa with her, spinning her much more frequently than any normal partner would want to be spun.

It was clear to see that Josefina loved it.

She felt someone's eyes on her, and turned to see Señora Ruiz observing her with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Buenas noches, Señora Ruiz," Lucía greeted her with a smile.

"Buenas noches, Señora Moreno," she replied.

They sat in silence for a moment. Papá stood and offered to get them all refreshments, and promised Dolores that he would take Diego when he returned so she could dance with Mariano again.

The music changed and slowed slightly, and Josefina tugged on Bruno's sleeve. He bent down to listen to her request and then looked around the square, until he spotted her Tío Lorenzo, who had lifted his daughter Emilia into his arms and was swaying with her as he held her. Her legs were so long at eight years old she probably wouldn't be able to 'dance' like that with her padre much longer.

Bruno shrugged and nodded in a 'why not' sort of way and scooped her up. Josefina beamed at him, and then – just like Emilia did with Lorenzo – wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Bruno froze for a moment, as though still surprised someone outside of his family could be that affectionate with him, but after a moment he relaxed and smiled and continued dancing.

Señora Ruiz leaned forward. "You don't find a man like that every day," she said quietly.

Lucía blinked and turned to stare at her. "Sorry – what?"

Señora Ruiz nodded toward Bruno and Josefina. "You don't find a man like that every day," she repeated. "He's a once in a lifetime kind of man. A good one. And at your age, if I may be so blunt, all the good ones are usually taken."

She nodded firmly and settled back into her chair, seemingly unconcerned with Lucía's reaction. (2)

Lucía blinked and was at a complete loss for words.

A few chairs away, Dolores hid her face in Diego's hair, trying not to smile too widely.

She was still processing Señora Ruiz' words when Bruno returned Josefina to the table and asked Lucía for another dance. She numbly nodded her acceptance and he led her out onto the dance floor. They kept away from the large crowd of dancers in the center of the square, much preferring the space and privacy the outer edge afforded.

They danced two songs together – a salsa and another variation of it – and from the moment he took her hands until the moment they finished the dances, she was breathless and heady and it felt as though her feet were floating over the floor.

The way his fingers slid from hers as they parted and she spun, and the way they brushed over her waist as he found her hand when they rotated and came together again, and the way she could sense the presence of his foot following hers, his knee beside hers, even though he never faltered and he didn't actually touch her at all – it all contributed to the sensation that she was both flying and falling.

The music changed, and she swallowed. It was a vallenato, like he'd danced with Josefina. She darted a glance toward Papá and Josefina, saw that Papá held Diego, and that Josefina was dancing with Antonio nearby, though both little ones were obviously tiring out, as their movements were much less animated than they were earlier in the evening.

Bruno allowed his hands to drop to his sides and he stared nervously at her. "Would – you like to keep dancing?" He asked quietly.

She didn't even think, she just nodded.

The partners around them had slowed slightly and pulled each other closely; most of the women rested their heads on their partners' shoulders, and the men tightened their grips around their lady's waists, pulling them closer, their hips nearly touching. When Bruno still hesitated, she took the first step, her body moving of its own accord. His hand hovered over her waist until she initiated the contact herself, stepping forward into his arms. She wrapped one arm around his neck and shoulder and the other around his waist, and ducked her head to avoid his eyes, her own eyes wide and her heart pounding.

She was vaguely aware of the rest of their respective family members and the villagers dancing nearby, but the majority of her focus was on Bruno, and the faint scent of his cologne, and the soft feeling of his shirt under her cheek, and how incredibly close his body was to hers.

She'd danced like this before, with many men. With Alejandro, of course, but also – with Papá, and Lorenzo, and several of Lorenzo's brothers – it was just how the dance was done. But as almost everything today had been - this was different as well. It felt different. As she adjusted her position slightly and stared up at him, he swallowed, his eyes darting down to her head on his shoulder. He then stared straight ahead and tightened his hold on her, a flush spreading down his cheeks to his neck and chest.

She knew, now, from the way the corner of his mouth pulled up, that it wasn't a flush of embarrassment. It was how he looked when he was very pleased with something but thought, perhaps, he shouldn't be.

He deserved to be pleased, after everything he'd accomplished this week.

She could dance like this with him all night.

Not only could she dance like this with him all night - she wanted to dance with only him all night. It had been nice to dance with Papá and Lorenzo and the rest of them, but this was infinitely better.

She blinked, and a hundred little memories were pieced together in an instant, each part coming together like the thousand hand-prints in Selena's murales to create a big picture she'd actively avoided seeing for weeks now.

You don't find a man like that every day.

It's Mirabel - she's missing, and they can't find her, and I have to bring her home.

I just - wanted to say thank you. To Itziar, and – to you.

I'm Jorge. I make the mortar. And the spackle. Mud, yeah. Plaster is tricky. Bricks, okay. I can do that.

I thought, with Dolores' story reaching a happy ending, or – a happy beginning, I guess – it just reminded me – that – my – uh – well, I should work on my story too.

People will talk...Being friends with Bruno Madrigal wouldn't have hurt you, but being friends with a seer of the future might.

Hey. Bruno was actually very concerned about you. I don't think he quite knew how to help, so he came and got me.

You really like pirates, don't you?

Ay, it is I – Hernando de la Roya – Confronter of Danger, Patcher of Cracks, Traveler, Adventurer, Hero.

Of all the hard things, losing someone you love is the hardest.

You and Josefina. You both – mean a lot to me.

I – saw you. Upset. You were sad, and – uh – I didn't want you to have to be sad, alone.

Marry me, Imelda.

What do you need me to do?

But - see – you're not asking. Lucía - I'm offering.

It's for Josefina, right? …Then I'm sure.

I'm staying. Okay?

Te quiero, Bruno.

Te quiero, Josefina.

Because - I love her.

Would you like to dance?

You don't find a man like that every day.

Well, with evidence like that, it was no wonder she loved him. It was no wonder she adored him. And she realized what had shifted, what had confused her all day.

It was no longer platonic.

Perhaps it hadn't been for quite a while, and she was just now realizing it.

She was an idiot.

And Bruno had been nothing but a gentleman to her the entire time.

She had a very sudden, very intense desire to kiss him.

If she lifted her head from his shoulder and rocked forward, she could kiss him.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to kiss him senseless.

Her heart's desire caught up with her racing thoughts and it hit her as clearly and as painfully as one of Pepa's lightning bolts.

She was in love with Bruno Madrigal.

Her heart leapt and then sank into her chest like a heavy stone as another thought hit her.

…But wasn't she also - wasn't she still - in love with Alejandro Moreno?

She lifted her head from Bruno's shoulder and her smile slowly faded away. She stopped dancing and was left staring through him, breathing heavily.

She knew she was no longer bound to Alejandro, not like that. His death freed her from any vows she'd made to him. But she'd always thought their love had been a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. She'd resigned herself to the fact that – much like her Papá or Alma Madrigal – she was done. The fact that she'd fallen so very suddenly, so very hard, and so very completely for Bruno in a matter of months of knowing him made her question herself.

"Lucía?" He asked softly, concern drawing his brows together. "Are you – what's wrong?"

Her hands dropped from his shoulders and she looked away, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress.

"Forgive me," she whispered. Whether she was talking to Bruno or Alejandro, she didn't know.

She looked back up and met his eyes, and the concern in them made tears blur her vision. "Forgive me. I – ah – I - I just - I need - a minute." Her lips trembled as she attempted to smile at him, and she reached out a hand as if to touch him – and then her hand curled in on itself and she turned and walked away.

She did not look back.

Bruno stood alone on the dance floor looking after her, his hands at his sides.

When he looked around helplessly and his gaze caught on Félix and Pepa nearby, they looked as confused as he did.

"Josefina, bebé, it's time to go, now." Lucía needed to get home. She needed to get home and think.

"But, Mamá, Antonio and I were dancing. Please, can we- "

"No." The word was short and Josefina looked away, obviously ashamed at having been caught asking for something again when she was supposed to be in trouble, still.

Lucía blinked and crouched down beside her. "Lo siento, mi querida. I – I am sorry for my tone. It's not your fault. But – I need to go home now. And it is getting late." Her voice sounded far away.

Her Papá appeared at her side and frowned, still holding Diego. "Lucía, is everything alright? Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm okay. I just – I need to go home now." She took Josefina's hand.

"Okay," he said, the lines on his face growing deeper with concern. "I'll return Diego to your sister and be home soon, too."

"Okay," she whispered.

"Mamá?" Josefina asked through a yawn as Lucía tucked her into bed.

"Sí, mi amor?" Lucía sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the covers of her blanket.

"Imelda and Ramón were really in love." Josefina had been chattering away all through getting washed up and changing into her nightgown and brushing her teeth and hair.

"Sí. They were." Lucía smiled tiredly to herself, her heart still hammering, guilt and love and confusion and desire crashing over her like breakers in the ocean. "Did you enjoy the performance tonight? And the festival? Lo siento – I'm sorry we had to leave. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anything you did. But I – just needed to come home."

"Sí, Mamá! I loved it! And it's okay. I'm tired too." Josefina paused to yawn again. "Mamá - are you and Don Bruno in love?"

Lucía was suddenly much more alert. She looked intently at her daughter, but Josefina had only a sleepy and slightly curious on her face in return. "I…I do love Don Bruno, Josefina, but...but..."

"...but you're not in love with him?"

"...I - we – we were acting. Telling a story. For the play."

"So you were acting with your faces and with your voices?"

"Sí." Lucía laughed, and she made it sound light, but her heart flipped over in her chest. She hated lying to Josefina, but she supposed it wasn't truly a lie – she needed time to sort through her emotions, and she didn't know exactly what Bruno felt for her…though she did suspect. Maybe she even hoped.

She definitely hoped.

She just - she needed a minute to herself to think. And she knew she'd think a lot better in the peace and quiet of her own home, knowing her daughter was safely tucked into her own bed.

"So were you acting when you and Don Bruno were dancing?"

Lucía stopped laughing. "Ah – what?"

"You were looking at each other the same way you were in the play when you were acting."

"Oh – ah - " Lucía faltered. "I - "

"I love Don Bruno too but my face doesn't get all dark or splotchy when I talk to him. Unless maybe I'm really hot, then my face would. But I guess that could happen when I'm talking to anybody."

"Ah - "

"But I guess dancing is exercise and it can make your face do that, too, right?"

"…Right…"

Josefina sighed and her eyes were heavy. "But you're not in love with Don Bruno?"

She paused, but didn't wait long enough for her mother to answer. She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "That's too bad."

Lucía sat frozen for a long moment, contemplating just how to discuss the complicated issue with Josefina.

"Mi amor - " she whispered softly, after a moment –

- But Josefina had already fallen asleep.

Lucía sighed. Perhaps it was for the best. She didn't even have everything sorted out in her own head; she was far from prepared to discuss it with her daughter.

Lucía closed Josefina's door behind her and made her way down the hallway. She paused at the door to Alejandro's studio and opened it, standing and staring numbly at the contents of the room. The room was full of memories – of Alejandro, of resting her chin on his shoulder to watch him sketch as he sat at an easel, of the way he would suddenly grab her shoulders and kiss her full on the mouth as a burst of inspiration hit him, of the smell of paint and the delight of watching him make something new out of something blank and empty.

But now, it was also full of memories with someone else as well – of Bruno, sitting up in his makeshift bed, rats perched on his shoulders and knees as Josefina hung off the doorknob, Bruno running his fingers over the story she'd begun all those years ago and telling her it was great, Bruno hunched over papers with a pen, concentrating on their play, looking up at her with earnest green eyes and a hesitant smile.

She played with the fabric of her dress above her heart before she clenched her hand into a fist and shut the door.

She made her way down the stairs and just stood in the courtyard, staring at the sky.

First one tear fell, and then another –

And another.

She began to cry in earnest – great silent sobs wracking her body as the tears streamed down her face.

"Lucía." Papá's gentle, quiet voice broke through her muddled thoughts and emotions as he let himself into the courtyard. She did not even bother to dry her tears before turning her gaze from the stars to his face.

"Papá." She croaked. "What is wrong with me?"

He held out his arms, and she stepped into them and cried into his shoulder. He rubbed her back for a moment, and then lead her to the bench along the courtyard wall, and guided them to sit. After a moment, she placed her head in her hands and propped her elbows on her knees, staring at the ground. Papá handed her a handkerchief, and she dried her eyes and blew her nose, letting out a breath of laughter as she did so.

"I'm sorry. I'm a grown woman."

He shrugged and smiled at her. "'Donde hay amor, hay dolor.' (3) I love you, mija. It is my honor to carry your pain. I am an old man, and even I still cry. If my mamá were still alive, I would choose to cry on her shoulder."

"Gracias, Papá."

"Do you want to tell me what happened, mi amor? You looked so happy earlier tonight. The performance went so well, and then - you were dancing so much, I thought you'd never stop!"

Her eyes filled with tears again.

"Ay ay ay," he cried gently, wrapping his arms around her again. "Lucita, tell your padre what is wrong."

"I – I was happy tonight." She tried to push the words up from the lump in her throat, attempting to explain. "But I shouldn't- I shouldn't - "

Her throat worked and she gasped as she tried to put her feelings to words.

"You shouldn't be happy, mi querida? You know that is not true."

"No – no I – I know," she continued, twisting the handkerchief in her hands, tears still flowing freely from her eyes. "But I – I feel, so – so conflicted. I feel happy, and excited, and hopeful – but also – so guilty, and confused, that maybe I shouldn't – I shouldn't be happy with - him."

She refused to look her father in the eye.

"With Bruno?"

She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded.

"And why not?"

She looked at him suddenly, confusion and anger and heartbreak warring on her face. "Because I – I love – I love Alejandro! I can't – I can't love Bruno! I can't love him too!"

"Mi querida…I think you already do."

Her face crumpled and she sobbed into her hands again. Papá rubbed her back in gentle circles while she cried.

"I'm a terrible person."

"I think not."

"I'm in love with a man who is not my husband! I love – I love two men!"

Papá took her hands gently in his. "Lucía." He said softly. "Look at me, mija."

It took her a moment, but she looked up at him. His lined and love-worn face smiled at her, his eyes full of empathy and pain for her. "Alejandro has been dead for three years. You have forgiven him for his mistakes. You do not hold him up as an impossible standard that no other man can ever meet. You see him for who he was – a good but flawed man. He will always be your first love, and he will always be Josefina's padre – but he does not have to be your only love, and Lorenzo and I do not need to be the only father figures in Josefina's life. Between you and I, I think she's already adopted him. You honor Alejandro's memory by speaking well of him, but you must be truthful as well. He is not some specter that hovers over you, demanding your whole heart for the rest of eternity."

"Is it – I feel I am wrong for not – for not - keeping him in my heart. And – if I – if I do keep him – it's just - I can't give Bruno half my heart. He – he deserves – he deserves all of it. He deserves – so much - " her voice caught as she thought of him carrying Josefina through the brush, teaching her how to hold his rats, dancing with her -

"My beautiful, lovely, wise, faithful daughter. You are not removing Alejandro from your heart and replacing him with Bruno. That would be unfair to all three of you. But Lucía – mi amor – you have always had a big heart. You keep the memory of Alejandro in your heart – but now that heart has grown large enough to hold Bruno as well. And he deserves to know just how much of it he holds. Alejandro can have your past, but he cannot have your future. Bruno, on the other hand..."

Her breathing slowly calmed as she contemplated his words, becoming peaceful and measured. She used the handkerchief once again, drying her face of her tears. Her papá leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently before sitting back and wiping his glasses on his shirt. He returned them to their perch on his nose and stood and faced her, holding out his hands. She took them, and he pulled her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gestured to the dark shapes of the trees towering behind the house – to the sky – to the whole of the horizon before them.

"Mi querida, Alejandro saw the beauty and magic in everything. And he taught you to do the same. And now, he is gone, and you see the beauty and the magic in another man. That is a gift, it is nothing to be ashamed of. If you love Bruno, accept that gift. You have not betrayed Alejandro."

She gave her father a shy, tremulous smile. "Gracias, Papá. I do love him. I love him so much!"

A few fresh tears fell, but her smile only grew. "I'm in love with Bruno Madrigal," she whispered, and it was a confession – a thrill on her lips.

Her smile fell away and she bit her lip, sighing. "I owe him an apology. I literally ran away from him in the middle of a dance."

"To be fair, it was the middle of your third dance in a row. And, what - the fifth one of the evening? But he did look…a bit…" Papa imitated Bruno's wistful, sad expression – not to mock him, but simply to illustrate his point. Lucia winced - and then, suddenly, a hollow laugh escaped.

"What is it?"

"Here we are, deciding it's okay for me to love him, and I haven't even talked to him about anything yet!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I think it's obvious he already cares deeply for you, mija. Just love him well, and be honest when the opportunity arises. For the sake of all our sanities, perhaps that opportunity should arise tomorrow when you apologize."

Bruno left the festival shortly after Lucía.

His familia halfheartedly tried to get him to stay, encouraging him to dance with them, telling him for all he knew she'd just eaten one too many tamales – but his heart wasn't in it anymore. Mirabel had even optimistically pointed out that since he hadn't even confessed anything, there was no way she'd rejected him.

And maybe they were right.

But maybe they weren't.

Casita greeted him cheerfully as he entered, knocking weakly at the wooden door and sprinkling salt and sugar from his fingertips. Casita must have sensed his depression, because the tiles clamored more slowly and less enthusiastically as he shuffled his feet to the stairs. He sat at the foot of the stairs for a long time, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped before him, staring at the ground, and Casita stilled around him. When he forced himself up the stairs and into his bedroom, the tiles around him clacked nervously. He didn't have the energy or motivation to say anything to the sentient house.

He stumbled into bed, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding and his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions.

He'd have said today was the best day of his life, if it weren't for Lucía leaving him on the dance floor with a look of utter dismay on her face. Mirabel might have technically been right - he didn't know the exact reason she'd left - but he could hazard a guess.

He'd gotten carried away, with the tamales and the music box and the multiple, back-to-back dances. And the look. He knew she'd seen him, at the play. Because I love her. He'd been such an idiot. He'd gotten over-eager and he'd made her uncomfortable.

And he'd said he'd wait forever. He'd said he was happy with what he had.

He was a hypocrite.

He'd held hope in his arms tonight. He'd held hope and love in his arms and it had run away from him.

Not that he didn't deserve it. Hadn't he run away from the people he loved in an effort not to hurt them? She was probably just - being nice. Probably working out how to let him down, how to kill him with her kindness.

He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, Lareina and Lorenzo and Valentino nuzzling him with concern.

"Stupid man," he mumbled in self-reproach. "Stupid, stupid, stupid man."

His night only got darker from there.

The Moreno-Hernandez family woke late the next morning. The emotional exhaustion on top of the physical exhaustion of the week caused even José to rise later than normal. Lucía, in particular, had lain awake in bed for longer than she meant to before falling asleep, marveling at both the new awareness of her feelings for Bruno and how deeply they had already rooted. She turned every memory with him over and over in her mind, until she was certain that apologizing as soon as possible was the best course of action. She'd wait and see how receptive he was, but she also desperately wanted to tell him how she felt. She knew she'd gotten another chance at love and she was not going to take it lightly.

They were all rushing to eat a quick breakfast and get dressed and ready for mass at church. Lucía had worn all her best clothing already that week, but she still wanted to look nice. Realizing her feelings for Bruno made her want to look her best, and she was frustrated that that was not happening that morning. She had to settle for her plain, everyday white blouse and her green skirt with brown trim. It was not as flattering as most of her other outfits but it would have to do. Her hair would not cooperate in anything but her normal, plain braid. Even that did not want to stay wound in a bun on her head, so she let it hang over her shoulder.

Taming Josefina's hair had eaten up a lot of time as well. She still had her toothbrush in her mouth as she finished flattening the last wild strands, tucking them behind Josefina's ear. She finished brushing her teeth, and then - her palm cupping Josefina's chin - she crouched down and pulled Josefina tight, holding her closely and kissing her cheeks. She couldn't say anything to Josefina until she'd talked to Bruno. She didn't know yet if there was anything to say to Josefina. But if her conversation with her daughter last night was anything to go by, she hoped Josefina would be receptive to having more Bruno in their lives.

Josefina laughed and pushed her away, wiping the kiss off and grinning.

And…now they were definitely late to mass.

Sofia, Lorenzo, and their children slid down the pew near the back of the church to make room for Lucía, Josefina, and her padre, and Lucía craned her neck to look around, searching for la familia Madrigal.

She spotted Pepa's bright red hair, and the small gray cloud above it, and eagerly searched the row for Bruno, but did not spot him.

Frowning, she went more slowly down the row, silently counting and naming each member of the family as she went. Alma, Mirabel, Luisa, Isabela, Agustín, Julieta, Pepa, Felix, Camilo, Antonio, Antonio's…capybara? In a…sombrero vueltiao? She'd have to ask about that later - Dolores, Mariano, Señora Guzmán…

No Bruno.

"Where is he?" She muttered under her breath.

Dolores turned around and scanned the crowd before zeroing in on Lucía. Lucía stared at her with wide eyes.

Dolores gave her a small, knowing, smile.

Lucía's expression immediately turned to one of worried realization.

Dolores heard.

"Did you say anything to him?" She murmured.

Dolores narrowed her eyes at her and shook her head sharply.

Of course not. Dolores had her boundaries, and directly interfering in someone else's love life with what she overheard was one of the boundaries she did not cross.

"Where is he?" Lucía breathed.

Casita, Dolores mouthed silently. She inclined her head. Go talk to him. And then she turned around and refocused her attention on Padre Tomás. He was finishing the penitential rite.

As he continued with a 'Christ, have mercy', Lucía darted her father a desperate, apologetic look.

He'd been watching her. He leaned forward and whispered – " '…First go and be reconciled to him; then come and offer your gift.' Matthew chapter five, verses twenty-three and twenty four, mi querida." (4)

Lucía nodded gratefully and poked Josefina's shoulder and told her to stay with her Abuelo.

Lucía scooted out of the end of the pew and performed the sign of the cross as Padre Tomás's calm voice followed her. "Lord, have mercy", she repeated after him.

She passed by the cemetery and paused, feeling drawn to it.

She hesitated by the gate and then opened it to make her way inside. She walked quietly and respectfully down the small rows of graves until she reached Alejandro's.

Lucía knelt beside the grave and brushed her fingers with affectionate reverence over his headstone.

"Gracias, Alejandro," she whispered. "Gracias for giving me Josefina, and all of your love. Gracias for teaching me so much about life and beauty and how to search for it in others. I was so angry at you for leaving us, but I forgive you, now. I loved you so much. But it is time to let you go. I will keep your memory alive, lo prometo. But – Lord willing - I'm going to start adding new memories to my life as well. Good bye, Alejandro."

She kissed her fingers and touched them to his headstone and turned to go.

She didn't see the small golden butterfly flutter up from where it was hiding in the grass beside the grave until it darted past her, spiraling higher and higher until she could no longer see it, squinting into the sunny sky.

Casita's doors were closed to her.

She tried knocking, she tried just opening the door herself, and finally…she tried begging.

"Casita! Please open up!"

She patted the wall beside the door timidly, feeling rather foolish for pleading with a house. "Lo siento for coming when most of your family isn't here. But I need to talk with Bruno in private and Dolores said he was here and I really need to talk to him, por favor."

The house ignored her.

"Please? I promise - well – I can't promise anything, but – I need to apologize to him. I know I left him in the middle of a dance last night and I'm sorry about that but it's complicated and I don't really want to - to explain to a house. Out here. Where anyone could hear me, except perhaps the one person I want to hear me."

Casita clicked one tile at her.

Lucía didn't even know what that meant. "Look, please? At least – let him know that I'm here?"

Casita opened two shutters in what could only be described as a shrug.

"Is he here? He wasn't at church. Where else could he be?" She took a few steps backward and looked up at the house. She'd spent ten minutes trying to just get in to the house, and she was getting frustrated. "Casita!"

She frowned and crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground.

Well, if Casita wouldn't let her in the front door, maybe she could just find a way in.

She couldn't find a way in. She'd walked around the perimeter of the house (and it was a large house…a few times Lucía even suspected that Casita was purposely making its walls longer to extend her walk…but surely, that wasn't possible…), and the only accessible open window had been to the sitting room. Lucía had attempted to hoist herself through it, but Casita pushed her out and snapped the shutters shut so quickly she'd almost lost a piece of her skirt.

Determined, now, she stood eyeing one of the palm trees beside the house. It reached up to the roof she knew lay over the balconies that housed everyone's doors. If she could just get up there, maybe…

She huffed, toed off her shoes, and tentatively put her hands around its trunk. Sofia could still climb trees. Sofia had followed Diego up one just a few weeks ago. She could do this.

She couldn't do this.

She didn't have the upper body strength to shimmy up a palm tree. And she didn't have a death wish.

"Eaaargh!" Lucía cried out in frustration, kicking her foot against the grass and feeling a lot like Josefina in the moment. "Casita!" She turned back to plead her case before the living house one last time. "Casita, please! I want to talk to Bruno! I need to talk to him and apologize! I need to tell him how I feel! I need to – please – Casita…" she rested her forehead on the glowing door and sighed in defeat. "I love him," she whispered into the door.

The door opened and she stumbled forward, nearly falling on her face.

A very surprised Bruno stood frozen halfway across the courtyard, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Lu - Lucía?" Bruno blinked. "What – what are - "

"Bruno?" She breathed as she caught her balance. She then quickly stepped all the way inside, looking suspiciously at the tiles and door as though they'd throw her out if she didn't watch her step.

"Are you okay?" He walked toward her, his cup in one hand, and tentatively held out the other to her. He was back in his old faded ruana and sandals and his curls sprang in chaotic disarray around his head and she loved him all the more for it, because it was him. She looked from his hand to his face and he looked away, his hand curling in on itself and dropping – but she reached out and grabbed it, pressing his hand between both of hers.

"Can I – come in and talk to you for a bit?" She asked quietly.

He blinked. "Of – of course. Um – do you want some coffee?"

"No thanks," she said quietly.

He nodded for a moment, and then seemed to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking and guided her to a bench under one of Casita's alcoves. He knocked on the wood of the bench and tossed salt and sugar over his shoulders with a shaky hand.

She sat beside him, adjusting her skirt – which was now speckled with dirt and leaves and her hair was probably a mess too after attempting all of her shenanigans –

"What – ah - " Bruno cleared his throat. "What did you want to talk about?"

He was so tense, as though he were bracing himself for something In fact, now that she took a better look at him - he had dark circles under his eyes and seemed - unwell.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?" He blinked in surprise.

"Did you not sleep well?" Her eyes widened. Was it because of her? Was it because she'd hurt him, leaving last night? Or was it because - because he'd realized, too, how she felt - and was stressed about how to respond? Did he feel the same way? She thought so - but - there were so many possibilities, too many possibilities. She didn't want to embarrass him, but -

"No - ah - I mean - it was - " he sighed. "No," he mumbled. "But just - go on."

She sent a silent prayer heavenward for the right words to say. "I - " she began, and then cut herself off. She felt her cheeks warm, and then she berated herself for not practicing this at least once before seeking him out.

But Dolores had said 'go talk to him', and here she was.

"I came to apologize for leaving so abruptly last night." She paused, her heart rate climbing as she thought about how to explain.

"…was Josefina all right?"

"Wha - " She blinked at him, trying to focus in on the meaning of his words. "Oh. Yes. Josefina is fine. Thank you."

"I'm sorry I left - "

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable - "

Bruno and Lucía spoke in tandem, their words overlapping each other's.

Lucía frowned. "You – you didn't - "

But Bruno jumped up and began pacing, his cup of coffee forgotten on the table beside the bench. "I – I probably assumed too much, keeping you for that third dance. I mean, that's a lot of dances. Josefina was tired. You were probably tired, too. And – it – it was – it was pretty – pretty - intimate. I mean, play's over! We're not - we're not - Imelda and Ramón." His words were stilted and then he laughed, but it sounded hollow. He looked almost ashamed.

No, no - this was all wrong. She didn't want this. She didn't want him thinking she hadn't enjoyed every single moment of their time together yesterday.

"Bruno," she whispered as she stood, too. "I'm sorry about last night. You didn't make me uncomfortable. I left because – I realized I was in love with you."

Well, that didn't come out right.

The confession hung between them.

A wave of emotions crossed Bruno's face - surprise, confusion - his eyes went wide with shock and his mouth began to curve up into a smile, and then - suddenly - his brow furrowed and he became very still. His expression dropped and he looked away, his voice breaking and his words stilted. "So you – ran away."

Lucía grimaced. "No! Well - I mean - I did, yes. But - "

"No, no, I get it." He flashed her a nervous grin. "I'm – I'm the resident expert at running away from - from bad news. And I don't blame you. I mean – heh – it's – I get it. Who – who would want - " he looked down at his ruana and his voice trailed off. "…this." He gestured flatly to himself but kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. "I mean – what – what do I have to offer anyone, really? I mean - Jorge and Hernando are great tío material, sure, but anything more, pffft. And then - there's just – a lifetime supply of sand, a handful of tame rats, and…and me." He whispered, balling his fists in his ruana. He sounded resigned. "So I don't bl - "

"Bruno."

She stepped toward him and took both of his trembling hands in hers. "Bruno," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "How lucky for me, then, that that's exactly what I want." She hadn't intended to tell him like this. In an ideal world, she'd have flirted and hinted and patiently teased him until neither one of them could take it anymore and they'd both confess - or maybe if she'd actually sat down and thought it out she'd have planned something sweet and romantic to say when she burst through the doors. But life wasn't one of her stories and there was no helping it now. What a mess she'd made. She couldn't let him think like that - she couldn't let him doubt how much she cared for him - how much she loved him.

He froze, and slowly met her eyes. She gave him an encouraging smile. Her hands were shaking now, too.

"I - " he cleared his throat. "I didn't know you liked the rats so much."

Lucía shook her head. "Try again."

He licked his lips nervously. "The…the sand..?" He rasped.

"Bruno," she said softly. "It's you." She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand, tracing his knuckles. "I want you."

"But…but - you left." His tone wasn't angry or even accusatory. He was just confused.

"I know. I'm sorry about last night. I'm sorry I left. I was overwhelmed." She blushed. "I – wanted to kiss you - " senseless, her heart reminded her – " - and I realized I – I've been falling in love with you for over a month now. And I felt – I felt so conflicted, because – I feel so strongly for you, but I also – I felt guilty – about – Alejandro."

Bruno looked away again and his shoulders slumped. "I'm…not Alejandro."

"I know," she continued. "And I don't want you to be. I loved him, but my time with him ended three years ago. I don't want you to be Alejandro…I want you to be you. I love you," she confessed softly.

He stared at her, his expression slowly shifting from wary confusion to disbelief and awe. The way he was looking at her made tears prick her eyes, and she blinked rapidly.

"You…love me?" He breathed. "You're in love with me?"

"Sí." She laughed through her tears and gave a little shrug. "Estoy tragado." (5)

"You…love…me?" He whispered again, as though he couldn't believe it.

"Sí." She nodded. "Te - "

He tentatively reached up to caress her face, brushing his fingers along her cheek, along her jaw, stroking her hair. He blinked and gently pulled a stray leaf out of her hair, flicking it away, and his lips twitched in amusement.

"-amo," she finished, snorting lightly. "When Casita wouldn't let me in, I tried to climb in a window. And up a tree. Neither worked out -"

Before she knew what was happening, he'd pulled her close, his arms encircling hers and pressing her body flush with his, his face buried in her neck. She felt him trembling, felt the short gasps of his breath as he struggled to get his emotions under control, felt the way his fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt, as if she'd disappear if he let go.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, smiling into the fabric of his ruana. She gave him a long moment to hold her, and then she spoke softly, mumbling into his shoulder.

"Bruno?"

He made a humming sound in response.

"Can you forgive me for leaving yesterday? I didn't mean to hurt you. I needed time to myself to sort through things but - "

He let out a little disbelieving huff of air. "Of course I forgive you." He murmured.

A pause, and then he added softly - "I love you."

Fresh tears pricked her eyes and she was surprised at how violently those words affected her emotions. "You love me," she repeated, and her heart sang.

He pulled away and held her at arm's length, an incredulous expression on his face. "Sí," he breathed. "Sí, I love you." His cradled her face in his hand and his thumb brushed against her cheek. "Te amo. Te amo mucho."

His eyes were so soft and his expression was so tender, her breath caught in her throat. He went to pull her in again, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop him for a moment. He looked at her in question.

"Bruno, you can hold me as much as you want; I'm not going anywhere, lo prometo. But – if it's okay with you - " a playful smile spread across her lips – "do you mind if I kiss you now?"

He froze again and pink dusted his cheeks. "Oh – ah - okay."

She bit her lip and leaned forward, only to have him tilt his head the same way. Her nose brushed against his and she laughed softly. She went to tilt her head the other way and so did he, and she reached up to frame his face with her hands.

His shoulders hunched up a bit and a he laughed nervously. "Lo siento. I – ah – I haven't – I've never - "

"It's okay," she whispered. "Just hold still a minute."

He obeyed and she brushed her thumbs along his cheeks, bringing her face closer and tilting it just so, until she closed her eyes and pressed her lips lightly against his.

He stood frozen, and she pulled away again, just a bit. She nuzzled her nose to his and pressed her lips to his again, and that was when he began to kiss her back.

She tasted like mint and heaven. Her lips were so incredibly soft and as he kissed her in return, she sighed a little into his mouth and he thought he might die from the sheer pleasure of it. It was humanly impossible for him to feel this good. Every nerve in his body was on fire and it was delicious. Her hands were still framing his face and he moved his hands, one finding its way around her waist, and the other gently brushing over her shoulder to the nape of her neck. His fingers played with the loose hair that had escaped her braid and he pulled her closer as his mouth worked against hers. His heart pounded in his chest and he shivered at the sudden thought that - as good as it felt to him, what if he was actually garbage at it?

He was kind of garbage at a lot of things.

He pulled back slightly.

What if –

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in again. "You're overthinking," she murmured into his cheek, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before kissing him full-on again.

He lost himself to her kisses again, and when they broke apart, he couldn't say if it had been thirty seconds or thirty minutes. He only knew he wanted to do it again. And often.

She looked at him, her lips full and flushed from their contact with his and her eyes dark and searching. Her arms were still around his neck and his heart overflowed with affection and love and desire. "Te amo, Bruno," she said breathlessly.

He pulled her close again, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "Te amo, Lucía," he murmured into her neck. "I love you – so, so much."

"- For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned - " Padre Tomás continued with the reading of the Holy Gospel. (6)

Dolores, however, was focused on the events happening a bit farther away, trying not to laugh as Lucia attempted to climb into a window and Casita pushed her out, and then squealing when she heard her tío and Lucía confessing their love to each other.

Padre Tomás paused and looked around, confused.

Dolores' eyes widened and she slouched, attempting to stay out of his line of sight.

It didn't help that the entire family was now leaning forward and looking at her with concern.

Padre Tomás quickly regained his composure and continued the reading.

"Mi amor?" Mariano murmured softly. "What did you hear?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Nothing. Fine. I'm fine," she whispered. "Ignore me."

She still couldn't suppress another little squeak of excitement for her tío, and she grinned for the rest of the mass.

A/N (Sorry it's a bit long):

1) cumbia – a traditional folk dance from Colombia

salsa – the dance technically was not developed until the 1960s by Puerto Ricans and Cubans living in New York, but I included it because Pepa and Felix and some of the other characters were dancing it in the movie (I believe). So I think it's fair game!

vallenato – a popular folk music genre in Colombia; the dances done to this music are typically closer and more intimate than the others (from what I can see in videos)

Thank you to ChipmunkfanNo.1 for telling me about the Aden Films dance compilations on youtube – specifically the ones titled "Salsa, Salsa Choke, Bachata, Merengue, and Cumbia in 7 minutes' and 'Cumbia, Salsa, Bachata, Merengue, and Vallenato in 10 minutes'. I loved watching those beautiful dances and they helped me write the dance scenes. If only I could convince my husband to learn them with me!

2) Yes, yes, yes. Intentional Mulan reference. : D

3) 'Donde hay amor, hay dolor' – where there is love, there is pain. Spanish proverb.

4) 'Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.' – from Matthew 5:23-24; Bible verse

5) Estoy tragado – literally "I am swallowed"; Colombian figure of speech meaning "I'm head over heels, completely in love".

6) John 3:16-17; Bible verse

I'm not gonna lie, I've had this written forever but I've tweaked and fretted and just – idk, man. I hope it was worth waiting for. (But the story is not over yet! We're actually only about halfway through.)

I will be taking a brief hiatus from posting for just a couple of weeks. My daughters are now both OFFICIALLY on summer vacation and my cousin's wedding is this weekend. I will spend the next two weeks getting into the summer vacay groove with my family, attending the wedding, planning camping trips, etc. etc., as well as outlining and fleshing out my plans for the next half of this story, as well as editing some previous chapters for minor grammar and continuity errors I've noticed upon rereading (nothing will change but a word here or there to fix a mistake). It will give my brain a break from posting deadlines and hopefully inspire some creativity, though I'll still be around reading and responding and stuff. : )

I have several solid plot points planned for Bruno and Lucía that I am not wavering on but I do have some flexibility with the rest of the story. Is there anything in particular you want to see explored, either with them or with any other characters? I cannot promise I'll fit every suggestion I may get into the story but if you have some ideas for me I'd love to hear them.

The next update will be posted on Wednesday July 6th. (It's possible it will be sooner but I wouldn't hold my breath or cross my fingers or anything.)

(I am sorry for such a long hiatus but my kids and family come first. Plus - I laugh - updating once a week is HUGE for me. My previous stories were lucky to update once every 4-6 months, back when I was pregnant and had young babies to take care of.)

Thank you so much for your support! Your reviews are so encouraging and make me so happy!