AN: HELLO MY LOVELIES! :D HERE IS THE REVISED/UPDATED VERSION OF CHAPTER TWO! CHAPTER THREE SHOULD BE UP… WELL I'M NOT SURE BUT FAIRLY SOON. I HAVE A LOT OF UNPACKING TO DO AND THINGS TO SORT THROUGH SO WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING AND PAITENCE! IT TRULY MEANS THE WORLD TO ME! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH, AND HOPEFULLY THIS IS MUCH MORE ACCEPTABLE.
DISLCAIMER: I DO NOT OWN COCO… KAY? WE COOL WE COOL FAM.
~CHAPTER TWO~
~I WILL STAND BY YOU~
~CHAPTER TWO~
~I WILL STAND BY YOU~
Hours had passed since Hector had decided he would stay in Santa Cecilia. The sun had risen high in the sky and pounded on the Rivera house, which only managed to trap heat inside its stone walls.
That didn't wipe the smile off Imelda's face though. Even though her face was damp with sweat, she had been glowing all morning into the afternoon. The whole morning was spent in each other's arms despite the blistering heat, relishing in the simple fact that Hector was staying home. Things only escalated when Coco came running from her room. Hector immediately scooped her into his arms, and Imelda held both or her amores close.
All of that was made Imelda's heart sing. She found herself humming to herself once again as she went about her mundane chores. As the sun reached its peaked she found herself sitting at a small table, trying a small pile of dishes as she hummed Coco's song to herself. Her lips were curled in a content smile, her expression dreamy as she stared far too long at the plate in her hand.
"Admiring yourself?" Hector chuckled, startling Imelda out of her joyous daze. She turned her gaze towards him, feeling lighter than air. Her smile only grew wider when she laid eyes on Hector's devilish smirk. Imelda rolled her eyes, her tender smile turning into a smirk to mirror Hector's.
"Wouldn't you like to know. What you should be concerned about is that shoe your trying to make… if you can even call it a shoe." She replied, placing the clean plate down. She folded her hands on her lap and leaned towards Hector. Her gaze turned to the unfinished shoe in his hands. At that moment there was nothing to celebrate despite Hector's valiant effort. He was in the process of securing the leather to the wooden sole. The smooth ebony leather hung clumsy and limp on the sole, threatening to slide off at any moment.
Hector could frown dejectedly as Imelda examined his attempt, her smirk softening as she shook her head. She reached over and gingerly took the shoe from his hands, still shaking her head.
"Ay mi amor, you certainly tried." She mused, twisting the shoe in her hands as she continued to examine it. Hector's dejected frown turned into one of annoyance the longer Imelda scrutinized his work.
"Oh mi amor." She sighed. She reached over and relieved Hector of the toles resting on the table before him.
"Why don't I finish the shoe and you finish the dishes," Imelda suggested, gently pushing the undried plates towards him. Hector's dejected frown transformed into a pout as he glared at the dishes. He crossed his arms and huffed. Imelda raised her eyebrow and stared at him in disbelieve.
"Quierdo I know it's frustrating but please don't act like a child." She said, immediately turning her attention back to the show and picking up her tools. She bit her lips to keep from smiling as Hector gasped and began to stammer;
"ME A CHILD?! I am not acting like a child!" He exclaimed, slamming his hands on the table. The feeble table shook, and the plates rattled. Hector immediately placed his hands on the plates, saving them from tragedy. He slowly turned his gaze to Imelda, whose sunny expression had finally disappeared, if only for a moment. She glared at him in disapproval and crossed her arms. Hector shrugged, his lips turning into a wide, sheepish smile as he sat back down. Without saying a word, he reached over and picked up the rag and continued the task he was set, whistling along as he went. Imelda's smirk returned at the sound of his whistling, shaking her head once more as she began to fix the work Hector had started.
For a while, the two worked as a silent pair. The only sound that would be heard was Imelda attaching leather on top the sole and Hectors whistling. As she diligently crafted a new black boot, Imelda occasionally glanced to her left to watch her husband. Hector was just as invested in drying the dishes as Imelda was crafting the perfect shoe. His face was twisted in concentration, his eyes narrow and his eyebrows furrowed together. The moment he was done with a plate, he would stretch out his arms and examine it from every angle. Every now again, Imelda was positive he was examining himself in the shining plates. She caught him smirking and winking at a clean plate, only putting down when he satisfied with his reflection.
Imelda felt her lips curl into a loving smile. Her heart began to sing, and at that moment she felt as if she could fly. Despite her hands being focused on her work, her eyes were focused on Hector and her mind was wondering. Before she realized what had happened, her thoughts had traveled five years in the past, when she had met Hector for the first time at the tender age of sixteen.
She thought about how she had gone to market square with a pounding headache thanks to her two twin brothers. She remembered at least two boys flowing her with wide, puppy dog eyes. She remembered finding herself in the center, of the market, standing in the middle of a crowd watching two young Mariachis. They were around the same age as her, and both were extremely passionate about the music they were playing. Despite the happy life they had created, Imelda could still not remember why Hector had caught her eye. He was not ugly by any means-but when standing next to Ernesto his quirks were painfully obvious. It was almost unfair comparing Hector to his longtime friend. Hector was tall and lanky, making him look like a pole compared to Ernesto's muscular frame. His face was thin and long, more angular than Ernesto's far more subtle features. His nose was long and hooked, but it somehow fit his face perfectly. There was nothing soft about his features at all-he was all sharp angles and lines.
Imelda had wanted to ignore them both and continue with her day, but fate had other plans. Before she had an opportunity to try and leave the crowd, she heard the strum of a guitar and the proudest grito she had ever heard. It echoed through the air, sending shivers down her spine. Then Hector began to play. Imelda stared in awe, amazed at how quickly his fingers moved. She remembered how Hector closed his eyes and lost himself in the music. She barely noticed the sound of the crowd cheering and applauding. Without realizing it she too had been swept away by the music, by the passion of the two men performing.
Until the day she died, Imelda would be forever grateful she had been driven out of her house by her brothers. She was forever grateful she wandered into the market and stumbled upon two young Mariachis.
Unbeknownst to Imelda, she had become so adrift in her memories that her tools and the shoes in her hands were placed on the table. She placed her elbows on the table and rested her cheek in one of her hands. For lord knows how long she had been gazing with a dreamy expression as he finished the dishes. Deep down a little voice was laughing at her, reminding Imelda how foolish it was to be dwelling in memories. Yet those memories continued to play in her head like a grand movie, jumping from their first kiss to their wedding to the moment she told him they were going to be parents.
The corners of her lip spread even wider at the memory, creating a goofy smile that only her husband could match. Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach and she was filled with nothing but joy. She just wanted to stay in her memories for a little longer and watch her beloved clean dishes-such a mundane task that filled her with so much pleasure. This truly was everything she could have hoped for.
"Imelda! Oi Imelda!" Hector cried, his voice sounding muffled and distance. Imelda blinked the clouds out of her mind, only to be grated with a hand waving in front of her face. Imelda turned her lips into a frown and swatted Hector's hand away, quickly picking up her tools and returning to work.
"What was that about mi amor?" Hector asked, pushing his finished stack of dishes to the side. Imelda shrugged, keeping her eyes on her finished product.
"Nada. You were just being annoying." She claimed, placing the first boot aside to start making its other half. She stood and marched into the other room, desperately attempting to ignore Hector's amused grin. It was no use though. As she stomped passed him she could see that aggravatingly handsome smile out of the corner of her eye. Though she would never admit it, that smile made her heart flutter and her stomach flip with delight. She could feel her face flush ever so slightly as she sat down, keeping her eyes trained on the small black shoe in her hand.
"Dios this is ridiculous." She thought bitterly, her hands gripping together on the poor boot. It maddening how she felt like the love-struck fifteen-year-old, being swept off her feet by a lanky and straggly musician. When she heard his footsteps walking towards her, Imelda felt her lips turn up into a content smile-despite how much she wanted to keep her irritated appearance. That smile grew wider with the sound of the chair next to her scraping on the floor and the sight of his lanky body out of the corner of her eye.
With that final glance, Imelda gave in and let the rest on the table, lifting her head and finally giving her full attention to Hector. When she looked at him, she was greeted with a beaming smile that reached from ear to ear, and bright dark orbs full of joy. Imelda's face softened at the sight, her eyes melted with each passing second. Her heart glowed and felt so full she thought she might combust. It was in that moment she suddenly knew why she had been possessed by a silly teenager.
Hector was there, right before her, smiling and looking at her with all the love in the world. He was there, safe and was never going to leave her.
All those wonderful dreams she had for their future had never felt so close. She could almost reach out and touch them.
Since she was not able to physically hold on to thoughts and dreams, Imelda reached out and gingerly placed her hand on Hector's face, stroking his thin cheek with her thumb. For a moment they both gazed at each other, lost in their own world, their hearts singing. As Hector gently held Imelda's wrist, he leaned forward, making Imelda tingle with delight. She closed her eyes and held perfectly still, letting Hector place his lips on hers. The moment she felt their soft warmth though she leaned in to deepen it. She wrapped her arms securely around his neck, and in return, Hector held tight to her waste Still it wasn't enough. The moment they parted for a breath of air, Hector whisked her off the chair and on to his lap. Imelda closed her eyes and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. Her heart hummed with delight as Hector kissed her temple and rested his head on top of her head. Every muscle seemed to relax in the warmth that radiated from him.
Imelda could have stayed there for the rest of her days; entwined in her husbands' arms and soaking every inch of him; from his thick eyebrows to his impossibly high and sharp cheekbones. She thanked God that she could fulfill her wish and stay like this as long as she wanted to.
"Gracias," Imelda whispered.
"De nada… but uh… tell me what I did to earn such thanks." Imelda chuckled, finally opening her eyes and looking up at Hector. His brown eyes were trained on her, his face etched with confusion. Imelda shook her head, another chuckle bubbling in her chest. It was almost endearing how oblivious he could be. She looked into that face for one moment longer, then kissed his cheek. Imelda leaned close to his ear and whispered,
"Tanto… Thank you for staying." Hector gazed down at Imelda, his face lighting up with realization. He watched as Imelda closed her eyes once more and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. For the first time in days, Imelda finally appeared content. There were no creases in her forehead, no pursed lips and no icy eyes. There was only a content smile on her soft features. The sight made Hector's heart melt. His features softened as she gently stroked her cheek, gazing at her serene expression.
If the light in Coco's eyes was enough to finally sway his mind then the image of Imelda at peace was enough to confirm Hector's choice. This was where he needed to be, close to his wife so they could face the world together.
Comforted he made the right choice, Hector mimicked Imelda and closed his eyes, letting himself completely relax. He leaned down, prepared to place a gentle kiss on her forehead and fall into the same deep state of relaxation Imelda had fallen into, only to be interrupted by an all to familiar cry.
"MMMMAAAAAMMMMMAAAA!" Imelda's eyes shot open as Hector's head turned towards the sound of that pitiful cry. Without a word or a moment's hesitation, Imelda untangled herself from Hectors' hold and smoothed her dress. She swiftly walked around the small table, her feet quick and nimble. She was not quick enough for Coco though, who let out another piercing
"MMMMMAAAAAMMMMMAAA!" The sound of her cry bounced on the stone walls and rang in Hector's ears. It amazed him Imelda could stay so calm as she rushed to the Coco's little room. He knew what she would be greeted with once she entered the room. Coco would be sitting up in her bed, surrounded by soft blankets with tears falling down her face. The moment Imelda, she would reach her chubby arms out for her. Hector had no clue why, but whenever Coco woke up she could be completely disoriented and full of tears. The worse came when she woke up from her nap-seemingly confused as to where she was. It was, Hector had to admit, a rather nasty habit he inherited from her. Had he actually slept the night before, there would have been a moment of cold terror where the world would appear to him as a jumble of pieces and he would have no inkling where he was. He had no idea why his brain played such tricks on him, but he did know if it filled him with fear, he couldn't imagine the terror it caused his little hija.
"Ssshhh… mija it's okay." Hector heard Imelda cooed, her voice coming closer and grasping his full attention. He turned his head towards the small bed room saw Imelda walking towards the little kitchen table with little Coco bundled in her arms. Her little face was buried in Imelda's shoulders, hiding the sounds of her little sniffles and weak cries. Hector's lips turned into a sad smile, his heart warmed by sight of Imelda holding on tightly to Coco, whispering calming words and rubbing little circles on her back.
"¿Todo bien?" Imelda nodded, placing a kiss on Coco's head.
"Si. She just got a little confused and scared when she woke up, didn't you mija?" Imelda cooed, her lips turned up in a kind smile. That smile only grew when she felt Coco nod against her shoulder. She gave her back and sat down next to Hector. Coco refused to look up from her mother's shoulder and held on to her as if her life depended on it. She only began to lift her head when she felt a new, gentle hand rubbing her back. She looked at her father with weary, puzzled eyes. Hector gave her a warm smile, leaned close and kissed her temple.
"You're okay mija." He soothed, watching Coco burrow deeper into her Mama. Imelda grinned at Hector, then turned her eyes to Coco and giving her a gentle squeeze.
"I think a nice hug from Papa will help make everything better, don't you think?" Coco looked at Hector, her foggy mind considering what her Mama had said. Not even a second later she twisted herself to face her Papa and held out her arms for him. Hector was only too willing to oblige. He scooped her out of Imelda's arms and into his, holding her close to his chest kissing her button nose.
For what felt like the millionth time that day, Hector counted his blessings, and knew he had made the right decision.
Ernesto de le Cruz relished many things in life. He relished the thick material of his bright blue mariachi suit. He relished how even in a town full of color like Santa Cecilia the vibrant color made him stand out. He relished the guitar strapped over his back and the big hat on his head. Most of all he relished the smiles and gazes he received from those he passed. There was always someone who would wave and tell him how much he loved his music.
Those compliments, no matter how much he savored every compliment and praise, made his made his stomach tighten and his hands ball into a fist. The music they complimented was not really HIS music. The horrible, awful truth was Ernesto had absolutely no talent for writing music no matter how hard he tried. That was Hector's forte. Oh no one could write songs like Hector, but as far as Ernesto was concerned he could not perform said music with the same finesse he could.
That was why they made such a great team-Hector was the brains and talent behind the music, and Ernesto would perform them in a way no one else could. The whole town knew of the magic they created and transformed them into hometown celebrities. Ernesto's carefree smile grew bigger as he thought of the crowds who would flock to the plaza to see the two young mariachis.
And now, they were going to share their magic with all of Mexico-maybe even the world if everything falls into place.
Or more importantly... if Hector didn't change his mind.
The very thought made Ernesto's smile disappear in an instant, replaced by a sullen an irritated frown. His hands gripped tightly to the black strap attached to his guitar, causing the rough material to dig into his hands. His steps quickened as if reaching Hector's small home would make the evil thoughts disappear. They persisted though-taunting him with each step and each passing second.
It was only the day before when Ernesto had come running to Hector, bursting and bristling with excitement. He had thrown his arms around his old friend, coming to close to lifting him off his feet and swinging him in a full circle. When he let go of Hector, his words spilled out of his mouth with astonishing speed. Looking back on it, Ernesto was surprised Hector managed to understand anything he had said. Whatever the case Ernesto had gotten his point across;
"Amigo we're going on tour! A tour all over Mexico! We're leaving in two days!"
Ernesto would never forget the shocked expression that colored Hector's face-how his soft dark eyes were swimming with doubt. He would never forget how Hector had just stared at him, not utter a word, not even smiling. He stared as if he couldn't comprehend the fantastic news he had just been given. Even before he had voiced his doubts, his concerns about this grand adventure, Ernesto had already felt as if Hector had dealt him a cold slap. When he finally spoke, his words were like a stab in the back;
"Ernesto it sounds great but… I don't know if I can join you this time."
Just the memories of those words made Ernesto's blood boil. Without realizing it his steps had turned into heavy stomps, making the clicking of his boots sound more like thunder. He continued on like this, pouting and stomping until he noticed the perplexed stares of those around them. It was only then he realized how tight his muscles had become, how hot his face had become and how heavy his steps were. A new flash of anger surged through him-this time at himself. How on earth could he have allowed such negativity to overpower him, to become so lost in his thoughts? As far as he was concerned becoming lost his thoughts and emotions was unacceptable-and should be left for fools like Hector.
"Senor de la Cruz are you okay?" Someone asked, causing Ernesto to stop in his tracks.
With a small chuckle, Ernesto rolled his shoulders back, straightened his spine and held his head high. He continued to saunter on with his confident swagger, looking over his shoulder and grinned at the concerned bystander.
"Ay nothing to worry yourself about amigo!" He called back, winking at the stunned man before he turned his head forward. As he walked under the bright sun Ernesto only had two thoughts running through his head; keep looking forward and make Hector understand he must come on this tour. His grin once again became a jovial smile the longer he listened to those thoughts, his steps growing lighter and lighter.
Yes. Everything would be okay. He and Hector would make a name for themselves and become famous.
Soon enough the humble home of the Riveras came into view, Ernesto was brimming confidence and hope. His optimism only grew when he heard Hectors familiar, warm tenor floating through an open window. Ernesto immediately recognized the tune to "Un Poco Loco"-a delectable piece he had written for his diosa. However, it was sung much slower and far more controlled than he had every head it. Before Ernesto had a chance to allow his confusion to fester, he heard a different voice spill through the window. It was high and as light as a feather. Ernesto stopped in his tracks at the sound of that innocent voice- his face became pale white and his heart pounding. His fears were only confirmed when he heard an all too familiar voice cry,
"That's my girl! I knew you had it in you!" It was followed by a joyous shriek and giggles. A new, fresh flash of furry overpowered him. He had completely forgotten the one little wrench in his perfect plan-the one thing that would keep Hector stuck in this little town.
Coco…
The very thought of her made Ernesto's blood boil and memories flash through his head. It seemed only yesterday Hector had come dashing to him with the "amazing news"-he was going to be a Papa. Ernesto could still remember the pure joy on his face and the love in his eyes. He could still clearly remember coming to visit his friends the morning after Socorro was born and how blissful his friend was.
That should have been sign number one that things were changing, but at the time there was nothing he could do.
Well- no mas.
Ernesto sucked in a deep breath and puffed his chest-prepared for battle. He put on his best smile and marched through that door.
The scene Ernesto walked into was anything but uncommon, but it still hit Ernesto like a punch in the gut. Imelda was sitting at the small round table, her hands busy with a half-made busy. Hector sat on the floor, his gleaming white guitar placed on his lap. His fingers carefully played "Un Poco Loco", his voice tender and slow. Kneeling in front of him was a little girl in a pale yellow dress. She watched her father with great interest, her little braids dangling in front of her round face. All the while Imelda would look over at her little family, a content smile on her beautiful face. Everything was so calm, and both Hector and Imelda seemed completely at peace.
"Mireda… this isn't good." Ernesto felt panic begin to cease his throat. Something was not right… not right at all.
Ernesto straightened his bright blue jacket and cleared his throat, causing all activity in the house to stop. Both Imelda and Hector looked at Ernesto with surprise-both wondering when he had entered their home. Before either had a chance to react Coco was on her feet and dashed to Ernesto.
"¡Tío Ernesto!" She cheered, wrapping her arms around Ernesto's legs. Despite himself, Ernesto felt his features soften and a momentary flash of affection colored his features. He patted the top of her head and chuckled, surprised at how natural his smile was.
"Hola niña. I heard you singing when I was coming-you sound really good."
"¡Gracias! I try really hard to be good like you and Papa." She said, tightening her hold on his legs as a way to say further thank him. Ernesto gave her head another pat, hoping she would let go after that. When she didn't Ernesto glanced at her parents, silently begging them for help. Imelda's features softened as she placed the unfinished shoe on the table. She went over to Coco and knelt to her level, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Amor why don't you let go of your tío and go play in your room? Mama and Papa need to talk with tío for a little bit." Ernesto froze as Coco reluctantly let go of his legs and walked to her room, only stopping for Hector to stroke her head one last time. Imelda's words bounced through his head, sending panic and furry flying through him. Both of them-he was expected to talk with both of them! It baffled him that Imelda tried to insert herself in conversations she didn't need to be in?
Ernesto clenched and unclenched his fist, willing his emotions to calm as he watched Hector stand to come and hug him.
"Amigo I'm glad you're here. We really do need to talk." Hector said, giving Ernesto a tight hug. Ernesto returned the hug, his stomach twisting with knots. He forced himself to smile when Hector let him go and held his shoulders, his face full of regret.
"Si… I think I know what you're going to tell me and you can't do this!" Ernesto exclaimed, his voice growing louder and more frantic with each word. Hector rolled his eyes and sighed, rubbing his temples and shaking his head.
"Ernesto you should have known this would happen." He said, his voice calm and controlled.
"No, I shouldn't have! We're a team Hector and we have been from the beginning."
"Si and we still are." By this point Imelda had come to his hand, standing as tall and imposing as he stature would allow. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes narrow and haughty. Ernesto refused to look at her, avoiding her hard gaze at all coast. He knew what she was trying to do and he wouldn't fall for it.
"Then why are you backing out?! This is our big chance and you are going to ruin it!"
Hector placed his hand on his hips, trying to mask the sting of his words.
"You know why Ernesto. I can't just pick up and leave anymore Ernesto. I have" Ernesto threw his hands up and scoffed,
"Si you have responsibilities now I am WELL aware of that." He took off his hat and ran his hand through his thick ebony hair, his anger threatening to overpower him. He looked down at his shoes, desperately trying to mask his expression but it was pointless. When he looked back at Hector, his expression was wild with desperation and rage.
"Hector please you can't do this. I'm begging you. You'll be wasting your talents in this good for nothing town" Ernesto pleaded, his voice frantic.
"How dare you! You've lived here your whole life just like we did-you're no better than us! And he is certainly not wasting his talents! You saw how happy he-"
"Oh si Imelda because that's what someone like Hector should be doing- singing for a three-year-old and learning to make shoes!" Imelda's jaw dropped, her face growing red with furry. Hector could have sworn he saw steam coming out of her ears-and he certainly knew she was about to go for blood. Or at the very least her trusty black boot.
"¡Hijo de puta! Get out of my house right now or I swear to god!" Imelda roared, ready to throw him out of the house. Ernesto braced himself for whatever was going to come-a hard shove or a slap to the face were the most likely options. Before she had a chance to get her hands on him, Hector let out a loud whistle, causing both Imelda and Ernesto to freeze. They both looked at Hector with red faces and eyes full of spite. Hector held their wild expresses with an uncharacteristically hard expression, his hands firmly on his hips.
"Both of you need to calm down. Screaming and threatening each other isn't going to fix anything. But… my point still stands Ernesto. I can't"
"Think of the money Hector!" Ernesto exclaimed, filled with desperation. Hector's hard expression melted into tentative curiosity. Even Imelda seemed to buckle, her own expression mirroring Hectors. It took every ounce of strength to not grin with delight at the sight of them-his heart flickering with hope.
He got them right where he wanted them.
"I'm listening…." Hector said, his voice full of caution. Ernesto straightened his jacket and allowed his lips to twist into a small grin, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.
"I already have people who promised to pay us well. Enough to help Imelda and Coco… and even help Imelda start a shoe business." Ernesto claimed. Silence fell over the group as he watched astonishment dance over Imelda and Hector's face. He could tell his claims were swirling through their heads, weighing their options.
"¿En serio?" Hectored breathed, his arms relaxing at his side. Ernesto nodded, his expression growing ever more excited.
"Yes, very serious-and think about it, Hector. You want to become a better musician and this is your chance to get to do just that!" Ernesto exclaimed, his heart pumping on pure adrenaline. For all it was worth, Ernesto could tell his friend was beginning to sway. Hector's eyes had narrowed in concentration and stared at the floor as he stroked his little goatee-a habit he had from the moment the little piece of hair had grown on his chin. Ernesto's hope only grew as Hector began to mutter to himself-the telltale sign the gears in his brain were churning. Imelda looked on with distress written all over her face. Ernesto did his best to avoid those fearful, pleading eyes. He said a silent prayer that Hector would be able to ignore them.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity Hector ceased stroking his goatee and stopped muttering. He stood eerily still, his dark eyes still turned on the floor. Ernesto was holding his breath the entire time, waiting for Hector to do something-anything.
Then as if he had personally had God's ear Hector looked up from the floor, his expression riddled with guilt. Only he was not looking at Ernesto with those remorseful eyes but Imelda.
There was no need for Hector to speak. His expression and who it was directed to said all that needed to be said-but of cores Hector had to say something.
"Imelda mi amor… Ernesto is right. I... I need to go." He said, his voice gentle and full of remorse.
For Imelda, the world stopped turning and everything was completely still. Her feet were frozen to the floor and every muscle had gone rigid. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably fast-making her blood flow far too quickly and far too hot. It was all she could hear-the sound of her rapid heart and her heavy breathing. In fact, it was the only thing she was aware of besides her burning face and the aggravatingly regretful expression Hector wore. Whatever words Hector had said were lost in her own turmoil.
How could he?!
How could he?!
How could he?!
Those words repeated in Imelda's head over and again, only worsening her rage. First, her hands started to tremble, then her arms and shoulders, and soon enough her whole small body was shaking with furry. Hector continued to stare at her with a guilty, concerned expression. He reached out to touch her shoulders-probably pull her into a hug. She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and it was far too much for Imelda. Something inside of her snapped, breaking all the thin threads that had been desperately holding her together. As if she was possessed by a force stronger than herself, she raised her hand and dealt Hector a slap so hard she hoped he would be seeing stars.
"Don't. Touch. Me!" Imelda roared. The room seemed to shake under the weight of her scream. Hector felt his heart reach to his throat and his stomach twist into painful knots. He watched Imelda breathe heavily, her face growing redder and tears pouring down her cheeks. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to pull her in close and tell her how sorry he was. Yet no matter how desperately his heart ached to hold her his body stayed frozen with shock. It was only when Imelda stormed off to heaven knows where that he felt his arm reach out to her, heard his voice cry out her name.
It was too late. She had already slammed the door as hard as she could, making nearby objects tremble and shake.
Hector stared at the door, desperation gnawing at his stomach. For a moment he allowed himself to hope that Imelda would come back through that door. He knew it was foolish of him to wish for such things. Hector knew his wife would not be coming back anytime soon-and when she came back he knew he would be greeted with the same hostile and hurt expression she had left with.
She hated him… his wife, the love of life, hated him. He could already hear a nasty little voice in the back of his head taunting him, laughing as it said he would never be allowed back in his home once he left. He would never be able to see or hold his beautiful diosa anymore. He would never be able to make his little hija smile or hear her sweet voice.
At that moment, as the weight of his choice fell on his shoulders, Hector knew Imelda would never forgive him.
Hours and hours had passed since Ernesto had entered the Rivera house and tarnished their domestic tranquility. The bright sun had made its grand descent, and the moon has taken its place. Imelda stared at that moon as she slowly made her way home. It gave a gentle glow, giving the cobbled streets a comforting silver hue. For the first time in hours, her lips curled into the smallest smile.
She was grateful for the shining moon and the twinkling stars that surrounded it. Not only did it give and haunting radiance that could not be matched in the blazing sunlight. The heat had broken just enough for the air to be comfortable. More importantly, the streets were unusually bare that night, devoid of the usual chatter and music that filled the sky. For the first time in a long time, Imelda truly felt alone as the walked the familiar streets, cloaked in darkness.
It was better that way. No one could see how red her eyes were, how her hair had fallen out of it's elegant up due or hunched her shoulders were. Imelda wrapped the shawl the friend she had run to gave her, trying to cover every inch that she could, desperately trying to hide. She kept her eyes on the sky, her thoughts only on what had transpired earlier. She instantly felt her chest become heavy with regret the more she dwelled on what had happened. She could still picture the horrified look on Hector's face when she had slapped him when she had screeched so loud it made the room tremble. It was like a stab in the heart to see those eyes that were normally filled with so much love to be so terrified.
It was her fault… all her fault….
Imelda shook her head, attempting to rid herself of that painful imagine. She closed her eyes and breathed in the night air, letting it soothe her aching heart. Nothing would change what she had done, nothing could erase the image of Hector's face out of her head no matter how hard she wanted to. At least the quiet and warm air allowed her torrent of anger to calm, but even that ultimately brought no relief. The moment the furry was gone it was replaced by the heavy burden of guilt. It weighed every inch of her down, making her feel heavier than she actually was.
Imelda knew there was only one way the ease the burden, and the very thought of it sent a cold shot of fear up her spine. It made her open her eyes open-and what should she see but the one thing she had been dreading the most; her home. She had no idea what to expect when she got back, but the gentle glow in the window filled her with hope. It meant that Hector had stayed up waiting for her, that there was an even the smallest chance he was no longer terrified or full of anger.
Imelda gazed up at the moon one last time. She held her hands to together, closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.
"Por favor… don't let him be mad. Please… please let him forgive me."
Her prayer sent to God, Imelda straightened her spine and held her head high. She slowly moved towards her home, never taking her eyes off it as it moved closer and closer. Her fingers gripped her thin shawl tighter and she tried to wrap it even tighter as if was the only thing holding her together. Imelda shook her head again, trying to ignore how her hands trembled.
There was no time to will the fear away. The door she had slammed hours before was right in front of her. She only allowed herself to stare at it for a moment as she gathered her thoughts and make herself as tall she could. With one last suck of air, she opened the door, prepared for whatever awaited her.
The kitchen was dimly lit, with only a lone candle lighting the entire room. There was nothing but utter silence-meaning Coco was fast asleep. Imelda let out a sigh of relief-thankful she wouldn't have to explain herself to Coco just yet.
There was still the matter of Hector though.
She found him sitting at the kitchen table, his head hung low and shoulders hunched. His elbows were plastered firmly on the table, a small held firmly in his hand. Beside his elbow was a bottle of tequila.
Imelda felt her heart break into a million little pieces. Her eyes begin to burn once again and she could already begin to feel tears pour down her face once more. Her feet seemed to move on their own, dashing towards him.
"Hector…." She whispered, her voice rough and cores. Hector slowly looked up at the sound of his voice, as if he didn't believe she wasn't really there. He stared at her for a moment, as if he was seeing a ghost.
Imelda gasped, a covered her mouth with a trembling hand. If Imelda looked haggard, then Hector looked as if he had been through hell and back. His skin looked pallid in the candlelight, his messy hair far more unruly than it usually was. What stunned and horrified Imelda the most was his eyes. They were a painful scarlet and lifeless… completely and utterly lifeless.
"Hector.." She breathed, afraid to move towards him. Those lifeless eyes suddenly widened, full of recognition and relief. Hector sprung out of the chair, knocking over the little glass on the floor and causing it to shatter. He dashed to Imelda and pulled her into his arms, holding her as close to him as he possibly could. He buried his face in her hair, and she allowed herself to cry silent tears in his chest and hold him just as close. An all-consuming sense of relief overpowered them, making every muscle in their body relax and causing them to melt into each other. Hector began to kiss her hair and sway, making Imelda feel even more at ease.
He wasn't mad… He still loved her.
"I was so worried Imelda." Hector whispered, his voice weak and trembling. Imelda finally looked up at him and saw a few lone tears falling down his cheeks. She released his waist and brought her hands to his face, gently whipping away those stubborn tears with her thumbs.
"Los siento mi amor…. Lo siento por todo." Hector gawked at her, his face twisted with confusion.
"Imelda… why are you apologizing? This is all" He began, only to be cut off by Imelda standing on her toes and kisses him as deep as she could. Hector stiffened in shock but was only glad to deepen in the kiss. He held her even tighter and dug his fingers into her long eyes, still genteelly swaying back and forth. Time seemed to stand still at that moment, only to rear its ugly head when they pulled apart for air. Imelda gentle stroked his cheek, her lips twisting into a melancholily smile and her eyes shining with adoration.
"I overacted. I shouldn't have screamed like that and ran away. It wasn't fair to you or Coco…" She said, her voice trailing off and her smile disappearing as she spoke her daughter's name.
"She's okay Imelda-a little confused and scared but she's okay." Imelda nodded, silently grateful she had not scared her daughter too much.
"Still… I acted horribly. I hope... I hope you can forgive me mi amor." She said, her voice breaking as she finished her apology. Hector's stunned expression melted into one full of love and adoration. He pressed his forehead against hers and stroked her long dark waves.
"No matter what you do mi corazon you will never get rid me-you know that right?" He teased, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. Imelda chuckled and found herself getting lost in those beautiful dark eyes. She stood on her toes once more and kissed his cheek, letting her eyelashes flutter against his thin face.
"Si.. yo se. And no matter how moronic you act you will never get rid of me either." She responded, her voice no louder than a whisper. Hector's mischievous grin turned into a beaming smile. He kissed her cheeks and brushed his nose against hers. He pulled himself further away from Imelda and moved his once arm to his waist. He held her other hand and turned their swaying into a dance. They slowly made their way around the kitchen, their hearts and feet as light as air. As the rounded the small table Hector kissed her forehead, and then placed his against hers.
"Am I still your heroe?" He asked with a chuckle. Imelda rolled her eyes and shook her head, letting out a small laugh.
"I was drunk when I called you that cabron. " She purred, closing her eyes. Hector chuckled once more kissing her temples.
"Still counts mi amor." He whispered, making Imelda shuddered. She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and sighed, completely content to let him lead the dance wherever it took them. Imelda finally opened her eyes and looked straight into his. Her heart melted at the sight of his warm eyes, her soul was set a flamed by the smile on his face. She felt her breath being stolen away and she could have cared less. She tightened her hold on his shirt and pulled her self-close to his face.
His breath was hot and reeked of tequila. It didn't matter to her though. She hovered her lips over his, just letting them barely touch as she purred,
"You Hector Rivera will always be my heroe if you promise to come home as soon as you can. That way we can work on giving Coco, sibling… hmmm?" Imelda purred. She felt a giggle-yes a giggle-bubble her chest as Hector gasped, his eyes glowing with excitement and hunger… a hunger Imelda would be all too willing to satisfy.
"Like I said… you're never getting rid of me." He whispered, finally closing the small space between their lips.
