Summary: The lead up to a wedding is always full of surprises.

Her father was surprisingly okay with their engagement. When first meeting Héctor he had looked the young man up and down, glowering from beneath lowered, bushy eyebrows. Óscar and Felipe had stood on either side of him, heads tilted back to look down their noses. But when they'd all seen the way Imelda and Héctor looked at each other, the way they played off each other in every interaction, the hostility and distrust had faded. One night as spring drew closer, her Papa had taken Imelda's hand and, with tears glimmering on his cheeks, murmured how much her mother would have loved him.

They had been together for only six months. Six wonderful, magical months. Six months of passion and music and joy. But there was a thread of uncertainty beneath the excitement of planning for the wedding. A thread that grew larger and more twisted as time went on.

She had to tell him. She had to be honest. To come clean. She'd tell him tonight. If only he would come home…

He had gone out with a friend. To play some songs and have a good time. He'd asked her to come along, but she had lied and said she had some sewing to do. Some suits to tailor. Felipe was all thumbs, didn't he know? Someone had to help him with the alterations.

So he had kissed her. Tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Told her that he loved her.

That had been hours ago. The sun had set. She tapped her foot, glanced at the old clock on the wall, the clock that varied the speed of its hands so irregularly that it only told the right time about once in a blue moon, and glowered out the window.

The sky clouded over. The moon and stars obscured, she now had no way to even guess at the time. It began to rain. Warm fat droplets of water splashed against the window and she felt an odd combination of anger and worry rise.

It had been raining for several hours by the time she heard Héctor's laughter and voice approaching. He was singing. Lewd songs about breasts and sex. Interspersed with giggles that seemed slurred and unfocused. Another voice was singing along with him, laughing and egging him on.

She slammed the door open. Strode through the rain. Saw the two men staggering up the path by the light of covered lanterns. Héctor turned to her, and his eyes lit up.

"Ernesto, Ernesto, this is her!"

He released the man he was holding, stumbled forward and flopped against Imelda. Long fingered hands cradled her cheeks and his crooked nose pressed firmly against hers. His breath stank of tequila and cigarettes.

"This is Imelda. Mi amor! My heart! My soul!" He tottered against her and the worry that had steadily grown through the night disappeared under her rage. His companion, tall, broad and handsome, came forward.

"Ah, Imelda, the woman who has so completely stolen Héctor's heart!" She found herself swept into his arms now. This stranger. Who moved surely and spoke clearly. He was not drunk, not like Héctor was. He pressed a kiss to each cheek, then to her lips in a way that was decidedly familiar.

She slapped him. Once. Hard. He let her go, stepped back a bit, surprised.

"Where the hell have you been?" she spat. Héctor, leaning against the wall, stopped smiling and giggling. His drunken demeanour fell away.

"Imelda, I…"

"I…I'll leave you to it," Ernesto said. His cheek was slowly reddening in the shape of her hand. This was clearly not the reaction he was used to. With his winning smile and handsome features, he was used to women fawning all over him. Begging for a second look. Desperate for a touch of his hand or his lips.

He turned. Walked away. Didn't look back.

Imelda did the same. Walked past the open door and into the central courtyard. Tilted her face up into the rain. Héctor followed, his steps unsteady.

"Imelda. Mi amor. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?!" She spun to him. Venom in her voice and fire in her eyes. Rain continued to beat down on them, soaking their clothes. Héctor didn't lower his eyes. He didn't look away. He didn't flinch or quail, and though she usually loved that about him, at the moment it made her furious. He just nodded and repeated himself.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stay out so late. To make you worry so." He gestured towards the street. "It's been so long since I last saw Ernesto. We got…carried away."

"You did, he was fine."

"He's a lot bigger than me." Héctor snorted into his hand. Seeing she was not amused, he turned the movement into a shrug. "I apologise, Imelda. As I said I hadn't seen him in a long time. He's my best friend, I had to thank him."

"Thank him?"

"For helping me meet you." Héctor blinked some rain out of his eyes. Smiled at her. "I wouldn't have dared, not if he didn't make me. You were so beautiful, Imelda. So fierce and strong. He had to physically push me into that circle to dance with you."

Imelda thought back. She didn't remember seeing Ernesto in the circle. But then again all of her attention had been on the man before her. On his smile and voice and hands on the frets of his guitar. Everyone else was just a blur of colour.

"The guitar?"

"I…that was me." Héctor brushed his sopping fringe out of his eyes. His intoxication was steadily fading away, but still showed in the clumsy movements of his usually deft hands. "I couldn't help it. Your voice…it just…called to me…"

She sighed, moved closer, leaned on the wall beside him.

"Héctor… You don't have to be sorry."

"I do!" His vehemence surprised her. "I should have come home sooner. I should not have drunk so much. I should have introduced you to Ernesto at a better time."

There was a pause. She slipped her hand into his, squeezed it gently.

"I'm sorry I slapped your friend."

He laughed. Reflexively squeezed her hand. Water ran from between their fingers.

"No, no, no, Imelda, you don't need to be sorry. It's his own fault for not realising what happens if someone kisses you."

"You kiss me." Slightly amused, almost a little defensive.

"Yes, mi amor, but I asked first."

A beat of silence. Then she was laughing, and he was giggling, and they held hands and leaned against each other in the pouring rain.

"Come, Héctor, let's get you inside, we're both soaked to the bone."

He nodded, paused, then shook his head with wide eyes. "I-inside? Imelda, no no no, I can't go in there! Your papa is in there! Your brothers! They would not approve!"

"That horse has bolted, but thank you for closing the barn door."

He blushed. Rubbed the back of his neck. Leaned into her. She snickered and supported him as they stumbled inside. He immediately knocked into a side table, knocking a picture over with a thud, and made an exaggerated shhing sound towards her.

"Ah, Dios mío, you are so clumsy." She pulled him towards her room, pushed him through the door. "Clothes off."

"I-Imelda?"

"You are not soaking my bed. Clothes off. I will get you a nightshirt."

He was almost completely red by now. Heat baking off his high cheekbones. She could almost see the rain water steaming off his messy hair. She turned away, retrieved an old loose nightdress of hers. She heard his clothes hit the floor with heavy wet thuds and tossed the nightdress over her shoulder to him. Then she started to undo the buttons of her own saturated dress. Slipped it off. Pulled her own nightdress on over goose-pimpled skin. Héctor was in bed when she turned back, smiling at her with a dopey adoring grin.

"I love you, Imelda."

"Go to sleep, Héctor." She crawled into the bed beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, held her close to the plain white cotton of her old nightdress. Long fingers gently brushed against her ribs, seemed to form chords and intricate melodies, before slowly relaxing as he slipped into sleep. He was like a furnace, radiating warmth, and she draped one arm across his stomach. "I love you too."

AN. Thank you all so much for reading and for all of the wonderful reviews that have been left. They warm my heart!

I'm leaving a note here because, hey, I've gotta say, this is turning more into a chapter story day by day. Can I ask for your thoughts on turning this into a long-fic and putting the few one-shots I've written into their own story? I would not remove the chapters I have posted; I would simply alter the summary to reflect this (possibly the title as well, we'll see) and continue on as I've been doing. Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you all again, so so much 3