"Héctor…"
Decades of being too proud to miss him were falling into perspective now. Lord knows she was still a proud person; she always had been. It was part of what had made him fall in love with her to begin with. And now, seeing him lying on the ground in front of her, hardly able to so much as lift his head, but still smiling up at her, waiting for her to go on, Imelda remembered what had made her fall for him.
"What I said before. To Ernesto -"
"Don't worry," he said, half-joking. "I won't hold you to it."
"It's true," she said softly. "You are."
His smile softened, and somehow he looked happier that way. He chuckled, "Yeah, I know."
Imelda smiled back, her eyes glinting with tears. Héctor reached for her hand.
"You're mine, too."
"I know," she laughed as a tear fell from her face. Héctor didn't know just how to feel about what he was seeing. In life, her smile had been one of his greatest blessings, and seeing her upset had destroyed him. It was no different now. Part of him wondered if it would have been better if she still hated him. But if he was making her laugh, that was something, right?
"I'm so sorry," she choked. "Whatever I thought of you, what you were doing, who you were... with. " She had to look away when she saw his eyes widen and his brows furrow. She composed herself and took a deep breath. "Whatever I thought... You didn't deserve this."
Héctor looked up at the others, whose awkward expressions corroborated his fear. They'd all heard her ranting and cursing about where he might have been in the months after he'd left.
She'd thought there could be someone else. She'd thought it was remotely possible that there could be anyone else. The shock of the idea was such that he almost forgot where he was until his entire self jolted again, making him wince.
"Amor," he said, and she looked back at him. "If you and Coco were the only ones who ever heard my songs, I would have been the happiest person on the planet." He sat up, frowning, and shook his head. "I should have realized that sooner." Now, he was trying to accept it. He knew it wasn't Coco's fault; she was old, and her mind could only have stayed with her for so long. If she or her mother ever even heard his songs again, it wouldn't be from him. Maybe there was a bit of a chance that some of it would come back to her before it was too late, but he had learned over time not to expect the best to happen in these cases.
"Imelda, when she gets here -"
"I'll tell her everything," she nodded, clasping his hand in both of hers. "I promise."
They shared a smile. Whatever came next, at least they'd had this. It wasn't nearly enough for either of them, but it was something , and that was more than they'd expected in years. But after a second, Imelda drew back and let go of his hand, her eyes lighting up. Only then did he realize that he hadn't struggled to sit up, wasn't feeling any pain or weakness. He looked down and saw his bones, pure white and completely solid.
Miguel.
Imelda gaped at him for a moment before throwing her arms around him, a swell of relief sweeping over the two of them. Everyone else around them was elated to see it, too, but they could never know what Héctor and Imelda were feeling in that instant. Logically, someone else had felt this before, but it was as if all the joy in both of the worlds in which they'd existed was manifesting between them. She pulled away briefly, only to lean back in to kiss his lips softly. He returned it, smiling, and placed a hand on the small of her back.
They weren't sure if there was any other photo of him to be placed on the ofrenda in the coming years, or even how many generations it might take for him to finally be forgotten completely. But for now, he would be here with her. For now, they would have some time to mend their mistakes. And that was more than they had even allowed themselves to hope for.