8. Chapter 8

A/N: Edited 6/24/22 for spelling, grammar, and minor timeline corrections.

Chapter 8

"You should just tell him how you feel."

Dolores choked on air. "What?!" She coughed and sputtered and patted her chest.

Mirabel winced. She'd thought this would be a great time to bring it up. Dolores had been watching Mariano for the past two days with a poorly-concealed lovesick look on her face. She'd found several ways to 'bump' into him accidentally, just to 'check up on him' and make sure he wasn't too terribly broken-hearted. (She hadn't told him that, but she'd used that defense when her primas had teased her about how she seemed to gravitate toward him.)

He seemed to be all right. A little mopey, but that didn't stop him from brick-laying and hoisting wood and nailing beams together.

"I agree with Mira." Camilo hoisted himself onto a covered barrel along the side of the new Casa Madrigal and let his legs dangle, his elbows resting on his knees. Mirabel and her primos had been cleaning the mortar from some of the trowels and shovels, and brought them to lie against the finished side of the casita. There was also a workbench the Rojas family had hauled over from their stables, laid out with nails, hammers, files, buckets, woodworking tools, and all sorts of items that had been loaned and borrowed and shared from their community to rebuild the house. This side of the casita had become a storage space for all those things not in use, and right now, it was also a quiet place to talk.

Dolores gave her brother a skeptical look.

He shrugged. "You're starting to look like - " He made an exaggerated expression, his mouth pulled downward into a pout and his eyes big and sad, and he reached one hand out longingly, the other clasped to his heart.

Dolores crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I do not - "

"Oh, Mariano," Camilo kept the same expression on his face, and mimicked his sister's voice, sighing dramatically. "You're the man of my dreams! If only you weren't just out of reach, betrothed to mi prima - " He dropped the act and raised an eyebrow at his sister. "Oh – wait! He's not!"

Dolores glared at him.

He looked to Mirabel, who inclined one shoulder and smiled awkwardly.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Everyone's a critic."

Dolores moved to lean against the wall beside her brother, purposefully bumping the barrel with her hip as she did so. Camilo flailed for a moment but managed not to fall off and huffed at her. "I still think you should just tell him."

"Oh?" Dolores raised an eyebrow. "Well, I still think you should mind your own business, hermanito."

It came out a little more sharply than she intended, and she nudged him apologetically with her shoulder. "Sorry," she continued, her voice soft. "It just – it's too soon." She looked up at Mirabel. "Isn't it?"

Mirabel's awkward smile only widened, and her eyes darted to Camilo and back to Dolores. "I mean – I don't know? This isn't exactly my area of expertise, you know?"

"You just told her to tell him!" Camilo exclaimed.

"I know!" Mirabel held up her hands defensively. "I mean, I just mean – I do think you should tell him how you feel. Isa said he was sad but…more like…sad everything wasn't real, rather than…sad he was losing her - if that makes sense? I think he'd like to know someone loves him for him - "

"I didn't say I loved him," Dolores protested nervously.

Camilo snorted. " 'Course not. You've only been pining after him for years, doodling your initials and little hearts all over everything because you're mildly interested."

Dolores clasped her hands in front of her and looked down at them, rubbing one thumb uneasily along the other. "Well, okay," she admitted quietly, not looking up. "I like him – I care about him - a lot. I love what I do know about him." She smiled to herself. "He talks so loud, but not in – not in an arrogant, 'look at me', sort of way. He just – gets excited, and passionate."

She darted a shy glance up at Mirabel, ignoring the mild expression of disgust on her brother's face. "He takes such good care of his mother, he treats his primas with such gentleness and respect – and - " her voice dropped even quieter – "he writes poetry every night before he goes to sleep. He's - he was always a safe person to listen to."

A dreamy look spread across her face, and Camilo gagged.

She frowned and elbowed him in the arm.

"Ow!" He yelped, rubbing his arm. Mirabel laughed.

"Seriously, though, Lola," Camilo continued, "If you like him that much, just tell the guy. Put him out of his misery. Put me out of my misery. I can't take much more!"

Dolores let out a short, breathy laugh and bit her lip. "But Isa - "

"-thinks it's a great idea!" The prima in question poked her head around the corner of the casita and gave Dolores a thumbs-up.

"Eep!" Dolores' eyes widened and she ducked her head, obviously embarrassed at having been overheard.

Isabela gave her an apologetic smile and came all the way around the corner, bringing with her two buckets that had held paint and several brushes that she'd just cleaned. "Don't worry, it's just me." She put the buckets and brushes in their place on the workbench and flicked her head just so, tossing her hair behind her shoulder.

Dolores sighed as Isabela came to lean against the wall next to her. She kept her head down but peeked up through her eyelashes at her prima, who smiled encouragingly at her.

Isabela ran her fingers through her hair, inspecting the fading blue streak, and glanced at her sister. "What if Mira tests the waters first?"

"What?!" Mirabel yelped, just a little too loudly.

All three of the others shushed her.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "I just mean – ask him if he's interested in meeting Dolores."

"We all grew up together, Isa, of course he's met me."

Isabela gave her prima a deadpan look. "I know he's met you, Lola, but has he met you?"

Camilo wrinkled his nose. "This is not something I want to hear."

Isabela huffed. "You're all hopeless." She held her hands up, palms facing each other, and used them to illustrate her point. "If Mirabel asks Mariano if he's interested in meeting her prima Dolores, he will know Dolores is interested."

Camilo and Mirabel stared at her blankly. Dolores stared at the ground, cheeks flushed. It was one thing to enjoy listening about the drama and romance in Tío Bruno's telenovelas, but it was another thing entirely to actually live it.

"Interested in him." Isa clarified.

When no one responded, she sighed. "He needs to stop seeing her as a potential in-law and start seeing her as a potential lover. I would do it, but I just broke up with him, and so it can't be me." She looked pointedly between Camilo and Mirabel.

"Ehhh…." Camilo made a face and shook his head, totally unwilling to accept his sister and the word 'lover' in the same sentence. "Good luck with that." He jumped off the barrel and began to walk away. When he was nearly to the corner of the casita, he looked over his shoulder. "Too bad I can't shapeshift anymore. I'd turn into you, hermana, and confess for you."

Dolores' head jerked up and she stared. "You would never." She squeaked at him.

He shrugged and grinned cheekily. "Aaaand…now you'll never know." He popped around the corner before Dolores could respond.

Well, now she had to tell Mariano.

"Where should we put our blanket to eat, Sefinita?"

"Can we eat with them?" Josefina tilted her head toward the Madrigal family, and Lucía hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want to eat with them, but she also didn't want to impose. They already shared breakfast and dinner with the family every day, she didn't want to intrude on their limited privacy.

She looked down at her daughter's hopeful expression. "Josefina, I know you like spending time with them - "

"I love spending time with them," Josefina corrected.

"And I love you for your thoughtful, generous heart," Lucía continued, "but they don't - they don't have a lot of time together, alone."

Josefina mulled it over in her head for a moment and then narrowed her eyes at her mother. "That doesn't make sense, Mamá."

Lucía sighed. "They – well – they could use time together as a family, but without neighbors with them. Especially since Bruno returned. He doesn't get much time with just his family. They all might want to talk with him without us around. And right now, lunch is the only time for them to do that."

Josefina frowned. "But tonight is their last night with us anyway. They're moving their things back home tomorrow."

"And we'll see them tonight for dinner, and tomorrow for breakfast, and - "

"And then they'll be gone." Josefina stared glumly at her feet.

Lucía resisted the urge to chuckle at her daughter's dark expression. "Josefina," she said gently, smoothing her hair from her forehead, "They won't be gone. They'll still be here, in the Encanto, back in their casita. We'll still see them. You can invite Antonio over to play."

Josefina sighed. "Will I still see Don Bruno?"

Lucía smiled. "Of course."

"And his rats?"

Lucía allowed her laugh to escape this time. "You really like them that much?"

She nodded. "Lareina is feisty, but Lorenzo and Valentino are very nice. Pablo is fat and silly and my favorite. Señora Rata is very old and doesn't like anyone but Don Bruno to hold her, but she'll eat out of my hand now. And Antonio's, too…"

Josefina kept walking and telling her about the rats until there they stood, just a few yards from Madrigal blankets.

Josefina beamed and waved at them, and bounced over to sit beside Antonio. He smiled shyly at her, and she immediately began regaling him with what she'd done that morning.

The corner of Lucía's mouth pulled up into knowing smirk. "You clever little estafadora. You've outsmarted me." (1) She mumbled under her breath, shaking her head.

"Hola, Lucía. Buenas tardes." Pepa greeted her. She'd gotten some food for Antonio and herself and balanced the plates in her hands.

"Buenas tardes, Pepa," Lucía responded with a smile.

Pepa inclined her head. "Are you joining us for lunch today?" She raised an eyebrow in question.

Lucía shifted on her feet. "I don't want to intrude."

"Ha!" Pepa laughed, and Lucía's smile froze on her face. Pepa shook her head and explained. "We've intruded upon you for nearly two weeks now, and you're worried about joining us for lunch?"

Lucía shrugged. "It seems like the only time you're together, without…everyone else…around."

Pepa looked to where Antonio and Josefina sat on the blankets and gestured in their direction. "Josefina's idea?"

Lucía nodded apologetically. "She's much more social than I am. Sometimes she gets lonely at home, with just us, even though we visit my sister weekly, sometimes several times a week, and host storytime. She's had the time of her life, having you all with us."

Pepa smiled. "She's a sweet girl."

An expression that Pepa couldn't quite place crossed Lucía's face – something soft and affectionate a little sad. "Thank you."

"Well," Pepa said, looking at Antonio, who was holding out some small rock he'd found for Josefina to look at. Josefina inspected it, nodding seriously. "Looks like the decision has been made for us. Let's join our niños, eh?"

Lucía nodded and spread out their blanket, and after telling her father where they were and getting food for herself and Josefina, she sat. Her father had already decided to sit with some of his friends from town. The rest of the Madrigal family slowly arrived with their own plates of food, and Lucía relaxed, listening to their conversation drift around her as she ate.

Señora Madrigal talked with Bruno, Julieta and Agustín about visiting Señor Rojas – a cousin of Lucía's brother in law Lorenzo, and the resident blacksmith and metalworker of the Encanto – to pick up some things they'd commissioned for the casita. Félix kept running interference, keeping his son Camilo from teasing Dolores too much. It was practically a full time job. Lucía couldn't stop her eyebrows from rising at that conversation. Apparently, today Dolores had confessed her feelings for Mariano, and the two of them had started a tentative courtship. That surprised her, considering he'd nearly been engaged to Isabela just a couple weeks ago, but apparently his engagement to Isabela had been more of an arranged thing than she'd previously thought. Isabela, Luisa, and Mirabel seemed very pleased with the latest development. Pepa tutted and fretted and beamed and went through the entire spectrum of emotions in the span of five minutes, and the entire family joked and teased and scolded everyone else for teasing too much. Alma Madrigal smiled, but looked a little uncertain and kept glancing in Lucía's direction, as if worried about her reaction, or potential gossip about the family. It made her feel a bit out of place, but Lucía just smiled politely and ducked her head to focus on her meal. She wouldn't be repeating anything to anyone, anyway. Josefina was utterly delighted, putting in her own two cents about fairytales and true love, giggling and spurred on by Camilo, until Lucía had to quietly remind her to calm down and finish her lunch.

Her attention drifted again until she heard Josefina talking to Antonio, and she froze.

" – so much fun! I wish I could have a big brother or big sister like you. But Mamá says I was her and Papá's little miracle. I don't get a big family like you or my primos."

Antonio looked puzzled for a minute. "But I live with my primos."

"I know!" Josefina exclaimed. "You're so lucky! My Tía Sofia moved into Tío Lorenzo's house when they got married because they have more work to do there. Abuelo says 'Donkeys are a lot more work than books'. So my primos don't live with us, but I wish they did."

Antonio smiled. "I like your house, though. It's quiet." He wrinkled his nose. "But I'm ready to have my own room again." He leaned forward to whisper. "Papá snores…and so does Abuela."

Josefina giggled and whispered back. "My Abuelo snores, too. Do all old people snore?"

Antonio shrugged. "I don't know. But I like your room, too. Thanks for sharing it. The walls are really pretty. There's so many flowers and birds and butterflies. Did you paint them?"

Josefina shook her head. "My Papá painted them before I was born."

"Oh." Antonio looked as though he didn't quite know what to say next. "He did a good job."

"Thanks!" Josefina said brightly. "He made my doll Beatriz, too. Well, not made her, exactly. He bought her in town when they came back from over the mountains with her and then he finished her and painted her face. He made lots of illustrations in the books in Abuelo's shop, too. And!" She turned to him, suddenly excited. "He painted the murales of you! Of your family! Oh. But it's all broken now…"

Antonio was silent for a moment, pushing his food around on his plate, before he asked quietly – "Do you miss him?"

Lucía felt stiff but tried to appear relaxed. She swallowed and tried not to make eye contact with anyone else on the group of blankets. She'd had many conversations about Alejandro with her daughter, and tried to honor his memory by talking about him frequently so Josefina could know her Papá, but she still felt awkward talking about him in front of other people. She felt like people always had expectations about how she should act – some people's words were so laced with pity and sadness that they were practically crying as they spoke about him to her, and she felt guilty if she couldn't muster up a tear in the moment, as well. And others almost went out of their way to avoid talking about him, as if worried the mere mention of anything related to him would cause her to burst into tears. She just…didn't want to be judged for how and when she grieved.

Josefina nodded. "Yeah, sometimes. I don't remember a lot of him. And when I think about that I didn't get to meet him, not really, sometimes I get sad. Because I was just barely three when he died, and that's practically a baby! But it's okay, because Mamá tells me about him all the time, and I can see his work all around, in town and in my room and in books, and even in the mirror! Mamá says I have his hair and eyes. Except my hair is a lot longer than his. I've seen it in photos. And so I do my best to know him so I'll recognize him when I go to heaven. And we'll have lots to talk about. So I just don't get to see him for a long time. But I'll see him again."

Antonio thought about that for a moment. "Do you think I'll see my Abuelo? I've never met him, but I know what he looks like." He whispered.

"Of course you'll see him again. Except not again, because you didn't see him before, but you'll meet him. In heaven."

She said it so matter of factly, and then moved on to discussing something else, but Lucía's throat was suddenly thick and her sinuses tingled with an incoming of tears.

It had happened so fast. One minute, Lucía was smiling to herself, quiet but content to listen to his family's crazy antics, and the next, she was frozen, scarcely blinking and looking like she might actually cry. Bruno focused on the conversation around him, wondering if someone had said something that had offended her - and picked up pieces of Josefina's conversation with Antonio.

Ah.

He swallowed hard. This wasn't – this was not his area. Well, technically it was his area, being the former friendly neighborhood harbinger of doom, and all, but people had never wanted his comfort or advice (and he had tried to offer both, when he was young and naïve ) - they just wanted him out.

Bruno kept his head down, pushing the remains of his meal around on his plate and listening intently as Josefina explained confidently to Antonio that he'd certainly see his Abuelo Pedro in heaven.

His heart did a strange flip-flop motion in his chest. How could something make him feel so sad and yet so…bittersweet-hopeful at the same time?

She then, in the same breath, went on to discuss the many benefits of having chickens and how she wished her Mamá would just let her have her own, already. She'd name her Señorita Gallina Gordita, and would make her fancy hats to wear.

Leave it to a kid to drop a bombshell on you and walk away talking about something like chickens. He shook his head and caught Pepa leaning over toward Lucía, asking if she was okay.

He frowned as Lucía brightly declared that she was fine, everything was fine, it was fine. He hazarded a look in her direction and she was blinking rapidly. Pepa's question had caused Julieta – and thus, his mother – to also look in her direction, and - based on her reaction to Pepa's question – he doubted she'd appreciate the scrutiny of the entire Madrigal family on her. He knew how Mamá was. She wouldn't take 'fine' for an answer and would casually question and pick and gaze sternly at you until you felt…dissected, more than comforted. At least – that was what she'd always done in the past. He didn't want that for her. She'd worked so hard to make him feel comfortable, these past two weeks. The least he could do was return the favor.

But how?

He was distracted for a moment by Camilo, who was still performing a fairly entertaining rendition of Mariano and Dolores: A Love Story for an embarrassed Dolores and their clearly delighted primas.

Dolores.

Hadn't she asked about his telenovelas?

"Lareina, Lorenzo, and Valentino!" He exclaimed suddenly, a little louder than was strictly necessary.

Juliet and Mamá turned their concerned gazes away from Lucía and toward him. Camilo paused, mid-line. "Huh? Who, now?"

Dolores perked up immediately and shushed her hermano. "What about them? Will Lariena finally realize it was Lorenzo, all along?"

"Who was Lorenzo, all along? Who's Lorenzo?" Camilo protested.

"Ah…." Bruno hesitated, but saw that Lucía was discreetly wiping her eyes, and pressed on. "My telenovela!"

He shifted and leaned forward, attempting to draw the attention of all of his family members. "I thought…with Dolores' story reaching a happy ending, or – happy beginning, I guess – it just reminded me – that – my – uh - " He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I should work on my story too."

His family stared at him, confusion and concern written across their faces. "Not my – actual, like, life story," he clarified. "I mean – my telenovela."

Dolores leaned forward expectantly. "Will Lareina's amnesia be cured? Will she remember that she is Valentino's aunt? Will Valentino find out who his real parents are? And will Lorenzo finally get credit for all the beautiful love notes he's written her instead of Valentino? And will that vile little rat mastermind Rafael get what's coming to him?!"

"Whoa." Luisa said softly, after a long pause. "This sounds intense. I like it."

"It is!" Dolores squeaked. "I've been waiting ages to find out what happens next!"

Bruno swallowed. "Well…see, I don't – actually - "

Dolores' eyes grew wider. "Don't tell me you don't know?!"

"Heh." Bruno scratched his cheek. "Well, I do have an idea, but – there's – been some interruptions to the storytelling process, y'know? And besides, I can't really – I mean, I can't continue the story without Lareina. She's a total diva, she wouldn't stand for it."

"Psh." Dolores nodded knowingly at her hermano, who had a look of confusion and mild interest on his face. "Typical Lareina."

"Maybe…we can just catch everybody up?" Bruno looked hopefully at Dolores.

Dolores rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Okay, everyone – listen up!" She leaned forward, her quiet voice adding an air of urgency to the telling. "It all began many years ago, when Lareina and her twin sister Tatiana were separated at birth by a tragic accident…"

Bruno darted a glance at Lucía, and to his surprise, she was looking at him. Her eyes were bright and shining with unshed tears, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in the trees and glinting off the golden tones in her warm brown eyes. He looked away and back again, and she was still staring at him. She blinked rapidly and smiled, nodding in gratitude, before pulling Josefina closer and settling in to listen to the summary of Todos Somos Ratas Enamorados (2). His mouth twitched into a smile of its own accord, and he felt a sweet tendril of relief unfurl in his chest.

"Lorenzo is a true Cyrano. I hope he gets a happier ending. He has so much - what is it called - ?"

"Panache?" Bruno looked over his shoulder in surprise, where Lucía walked quickly to catch up to him. He stopped and looked around for Josefina, and she seemed to follow his train of thought.

"Yes, panache. And I sent her home earlier with her Abuelo. She wanted to prepare a surprise for everyone's last night with us," she explained.

"Oh. That's nice." He didn't really have anything to carry this evening, as most of the tools had been returned and anything the Madrigals had brought to the casita today stayed there. They would be putting a few finishing touches on some things tomorrow, some paint and some shutters and some wall tile still needed to be completed – but while that was going on, his family would move their possessions back into the Casita, and the evening would end with a party, celebrating all the town had accomplished in reconstructing the Casa Madrigal. After they'd given Mirabel her doorknob, of course. "Do you – need any help with that?"

Lucía only had a blanket in a basket, and shook her head. "No, thank you. It's not heavy."

They walked stride in stride for a moment, Bruno slowing his pace so that she wouldn't be walking quite as fast. He waited for her to catch her breath and asked, "Did you like it?"

Lucía nodded. "Like I said, Lorenzo is a true Cyrano. I loved him, but I liked all the characters based on Dolores' summary. You managed to make them all likeable."

Bruno smiled to himself. "Even Rafael?"

"Oh, he is the best sort of character – he is fun to hate! And Valentino, falling in love with his long lost tía, using Lorenzo's words to woo her – how will you resolve that?"

"Oh, I can't spoil it. Dolores would kill me. She's been listening to this story for years."

Lucía's steps slowed until she stopped suddenly, a strange mixture of sudden understanding, shock, and pain on her face.

"What's wrong?"

She turned to him in the middle of the street. Fortunately, the work had wrapped up earlier in the day today, and there were not many others in the street aside from his family, straggling a little ways apart from each other back to the Hernandez home. Her mouth was open and then she chewed on her lower lip, frowning, as though she were uncertain of what she wanted to say.

"Could she hear you? The whole time? I hadn't – I hadn't realized -" Her eyes searched his face, and he felt all the blood drain from it.

He did not intend to have this conversation with Lucía. Not today, not ever.

Lucía looked around for a moment and stepped closer – not close enough to touch, just close enough to ensure they were not overheard, and he had to watch her lips move to make sure he understood her, her voice was so quiet. "Mirabel told me about the walls."

"Oh."

"It was an accident, when she was – attempting to convince me to let you keep the rats."

"Oh." His felt his heart both warm, at the thought of his sobrina defending him, and strangely - fall, a little. He knew Mirabel had told Lucía they were important to him, but he didn't realize she'd needed convincing –

"I would have let them stay even if she didn't approach me so earnestly. Even if it was only you that had wanted them there, I'd have let them stay."

"Oh." That felt…better.

Lucía's face fell, and she looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I won't – we don't have to talk about it. I just – I hadn't realized Dolores could hear you, even though it makes sense, I'd never - " she swallowed. "Poor kid." She whispered.

"Yeah." Poor kid, having to carry so many secrets around and listen to him grow worse and worse in the walls. He agreed with her, but it didn't make him feel any better about it. It just felt like confirmation that he'd failed, somehow, yet again.

"I'm sorry." Lucía said, turning to face him, her basket between them like a safety barrier. He was grateful for it. "I'm sorry she had to go through that. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

He shifted on his feet and cleared his throat, painfully aware of the windows and doors and the people behind them that surrounded the two of them. "It – it was my decision. Feel bad for Dolores but – don't – don't – pity - "

"It's not pity." Lucía said vehemently, and he looked at her in surprise. "Sorry," she continued, more gently, her voice still hushed. "It's not – it's not pity. I – I know what it's like, to need time to sort things out before talking about them. I know what it's like to hate being the center of attention when you're still struggling to know what you're feeling in the first place. I'm sorry I brought it up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay."

"No, no – you told everyone about your telenovela to give me a moment to myself, and here I repay it by bringing up something private and painful. And it's not my business at all."

"Well, technically I was the one who brought this...brought the thing about Dolores up. And before, I was just trying to repay you for…everything."

Lucía sighed. "But I feel...I have to make it up to you. I really am sorry I caused you pain."

"It's not your fault. You didn't even mean to. Besides, I'm pretty sure I still owe you for the horse."

"You don't owe me anything for the horse. It wasn't even my horse."

"But - "

They both looked at each other at the same time, brows drawn together and lips pinched in frustration, and then Lucía's expression relaxed, and she laughed softly. "Look at us, behaving like middle-aged children. Bruno?"

"Ah – yeah?" He allowed his hands, which had balled themselves in his ruana again, to relax.

"Perhaps – we just decide to be friends and call it even? There is no need to try to repay favors or keep track of debts when you are friends."

His jaw went slack and his eyes went wide. He hadn't had anyone ask him to be friends since he was five. When her expression began to cloud a moment later, he realized he hadn't said anything yet. "Uh – sure. Of course. Friends."

She smiled at him, and they began to walk again. "Thank you," she added. "For today."

He shrugged. "It was nothing."

She looked at him, shaking her head. "It was something to me."

They walked in silence for a few moments, until her home came into view. "You really liked them? The stories?" He asked quietly.

"Of course I did! You are very creative."

"So are you," he pointed out.

Lucía's mouth twitched up in one corner. "I tell stories, I don't write them."

Bruno frowned. "No – you – I remember, don't I? You tell your own stories too. There was the one – Camilo and Mirabel liked. I liked it. I remember that one, at least. The one about the farm boy who becomes a pirate and rescues his true love from an evil prince? I think you came up with that one in between my two sets of sobrinos. I don't remember Luisa talking much about it, and she'd have loved that one. But Camilo and Mirabel loved it. They retold it over and over."

Lucía blinked. "I stand corrected. I used to tell my own stories, too."

They stopped outside the Hernandez home. "You don't anymore?"

She gave him a lopsided smile. "Sometimes, life gets in the way, and you get distracted from the things you used to enjoy doing. You understand."

He certainly did.

A/N:

(1) estafadora – scammer

(2) Todos Somos Ratas Enamoradas – We Are All Rats In Love. Part of Bruno's telenovela plot is based on Cyrano de Bergerac, a French play by Edmond Rostand written in 1897. I haven't seen the latest movie yet but I like the story.

Also, a little nod to The Princess Bride with Bruno's remembrance of a story Lucía used to tell. I'm sorry, but all of Bruno's and Lucía's stories they tell will be based on actual already written stories or legends, because I don't have the kind of brainpower required to write a story within a story.

Thanks so much for reading! Next chapter, the magic returns and we really start seeing progress between Bruno and Lucía. I'm so excited to write it! (I confess I trudged through and struggled with this chapter. I hope you still enjoy it but I'm welcome to suggestions for improvement.)

To all my guest reviewers: Thank you so much! I try to respond to all my reviews in person but since I can't with you, I just say – thank you! Also, I wanted to explain that if you review as a guest, it takes a few days for guest reviews to be 'approved' via fanfiction unless I go in and manually approve them myself. I don't log on to fanfiction on my computer every day, so if you don't see your review post immediately, please know I haven't deleted it or anything, it just takes a few days to show up.

To Primo Camilo: Thank you so much for your reviews! I really appreciate them and they truly make my day. I like your question too! Josefina is not based on the three main kids in the movie (Cecilia, Juancho, or Alejandra), though in my head she knows them and goes to school with them. Her personality is based off of a mix of traits from both of my daughters.

Again, everyone – thank you for your support, it is very encouraging! God bless you and have a wonderful rest of your week!