Ernesto returns the truck to his house when the trio return from Colonia el Cárcamo that night, hoping to God that his father wouldn't notice the truck had been missing. Imelda was expecting to go straight to her and Héctor's home, but Ernesto had insisted they had to celebrate their wedding.
The other man had gone inside to dispose of the key and get what he called Héctor's wedding gift. Héctor grabs Imelda's suitcase from the back of the truck as they wait for Ernesto to return from the house.
"How long do you think he'll want to drink for?" Imelda asks, straightening the silk tie around her new husband's neck before smoothing the lapels of his brown Charro suit.
"Until the bottle is gone." Héctor shrugs in response.
"We could always leave him; I was hoping I'd get you to myself." She manages her best sultry smile, pulling him down by his lapels colliding her lips with his. Héctor hums into the kiss, his free hand coming around to cup her bottom. Imelda squeaks when he squeezes her cheek through her skirt.
"I leave you two for 5 minutes and you two are nearly in each other's pants." Ernesto scoffs. Imelda withdraws from her husband, glaring at the other man who had interrupted them. She bites back a snarky comment towards the other musician, not wanting to ruin her wedding night. Plus, the bottle of tequila he was holding looked good.
"Let's go back to our place to drink that." Imelda sighs, detaching herself from her husband and grabbing his hand. The trio make their way down the street, each taking turns sipping out of the bottle. Héctor opens the front door to the house, about to lead his wife through the door.
"Wait!" He exclaims, tugging Imelda away from the door and shoving her suitcase into Ernesto's arms. Imelda raises an eyebrow at Héctor as he makes his way back to her, scooping her up in his arms bridal style.
"Héctor!" Imelda shrieks as he picks her up. "What are you doing?" her husband turns around back to the door, entering the threshold of the house. He sets her back on her feet, cupping her cheeks before pressing his lips to hers. He pulls away from her with a grin, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs.
"Alright." Ernesto interrupts, shoving through the threshold of the house. Imelda rolls her eyes at the other man's rudeness and follows him to the courtyard of the house. "Do you have any glasses?"
Imelda looks to Héctor questioningly, actually unsure if there were any plates or glasses in their new home.
"Yeah, there is." Héctor confirms walking past Imelda into the kitchen. Imelda approaches where Ernesto was lighting several candles that sat on the table. The man sits with a smirk until the chair he sat in breaks under him. Ernesto curses as his tailbone collides with the stone ground. Imelda holds back a laugh as the young man falls.
"Oh yeah don't sit at the head of the table, I still need to fix that chair." Héctor says, looking at his best friend on the ground. Ernesto grumbles rubbing his behind as he stands up from the ground, taking the seat on the right. Imelda approaches the table as Héctor puts down the drink glasses.
"Please tell me Señor Vargas didn't leave those behind." Imelda says, picking up on of the glasses and inspecting it.
"Oh dios, no." he shakes his head. "María had tucked away my mamá's dishes after she passed. It's all hers."
Imelda smiles she knew Héctor did not have much of his mothers, it was nice to know that every day they would be using something that once belonged to Gloria Rivera. Ernesto fills the three glasses as Héctor sits down, pulling Imelda onto his lap.
The trio clink glasses before taking their shot. Imelda scrunches her face as the alcohol burns down her throat. Despite the unpleasant feeling, Imelda puts her glass back on the table silently asking for a refill.
"You want more?" Ernesto asks skeptically as he refills his and Héctor's glass.
"It's my wedding." Imelda rebuffs, sliding her glass closer to Ernesto. With a sigh, he refills her glass. Imelda reaches forward and grabs the bottle as she drinks her shot quickly, refilling her glass and her husband's.
"Ay! Take it slow that's good stuff." Ernesto fumes from across the table, still holding his second glass.
"You gotta catch up amigo, it's my wedding night. My wife and I will drink as much of your tequila we want." Héctor jests. Imelda looks to her husband as he runs a spare hand through his hair, exposing his neck. She stares at his neck, thinking about the way he moans when she kisses down the column of his throat. The way his thumb brushes her thigh over the fabric of her skirt nearly drives her insane.
"Yeah? Well, you don't want to drink too much of that stuff, or you won't be able to perform on your wedding night." Ernesto retorts. Imelda raises an eyebrow at the man sitting across from her.
"No doubt you're speaking from experience. Gotten too drunk to stick your pito in some poor girl too many times Ernestitio?"
"Cristo, somehow you're even more unpleasant to be around when you've been drinking. I get it, I'll go." Ernesto raises his hands in defeat, standing from the table her grabs the bottle of tequila. But not before Héctor can wrap his hand around the bottle.
"Leave it." The young man states, narrowing his gaze at his best friend. The older man rolls his eyes and let's go of the bottle.
"Make good choices." He says before leaving through the gate, closing it on his way out.
"He's my best friend, but I was hoping he'd leave soon. I want my wife all to myself." Héctor pulls her closer, his hand bunching up her skirt until his hand rested on her bare thigh. Imelda hums in agreement as she rests her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her fingers against the suede of his suit.
"You haven't even shown me where our bedroom is." Imelda points out, her voice low as her hand runs down the front of his chest. She stands from her husband's lap, grabbing the bottle from the table and turns back to him. Héctor rises from where he was seated, eyes on her face before taking one large step forward towards her. Imelda backs up as far as she can go, the table hitting the back of her thighs. He's close to her, his chest only inches from her as he traps her between his arms as he places his hands on the table. He leans over, his lips touching her earlobe.
"It's just over there." He whispers lowly, savouring the involuntary shiver that goes through Imelda. Imelda sighs in disappointment as Héctor withdraws from her. "You go ahead, I'll be right there."
The young woman grabs one of the candles from the table with her other hand, giving him a sultry look as she walks towards their room.
"Don't be too long." She purrs, her hips swaying as she walks from her husband. She opens the door with her elbow and pushes it open with her shoulder. Imelda looks around the room, which was sparsely filled. In the middle of the floor were two blankets and two worn pillows, she smiles as she slips her huerachas off. Placing a candle near to their makeshift bed and settling the bottle of tequila next to her on the multicoloured quilt.
Héctor emerges into the bedroom, holding two candles in his hands. He places them at the foot of their makeshift bed, the three candles were enough to slightly light the room. Imelda stands up from the quilt and closes the door behind her husband. Imelda slowly lets go of the doorknob, swaying her hips as she walks towards her husband; who was standing up from his crouch as he placed down the candle.
She presses herself against him, hands on his chest and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his neck. Héctor moans as Imelda drags her tongue up his neck to behind the shell of his ear, before taking his lobe between her teeth.
"Ah!" He moans, his hands circling her waist. She withdraws with a smile, pushing his suit jacket off of his shoulders; throwing the garment behind her towards the door. Héctor forcefully grabs Imelda's hips, turning his wife around so her bottom pressed against his hardening cock. He leans back from her, untying her skirt and tugging it down her hips. Imelda steps out of the garment, shoving it back with her foot and tugs her blouse up over her head.
"No corset? Señora Rivera, I'm scandalized." He chuckles, inching her chemise up slowly.
"Never again." She giggles, untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt just as slowly as he was gathering her undergarment. Héctor growls impatiently, finally removing her chemise; leaving her breasts uncovered. He throws the linen garment into the pile with their clothes and shoves her hands aside, quickly unbuttoning his own shirt as Imelda removes her bloomers.
"Fuck Imelda." He curses, his cold hands cupping her breasts. Imelda sharply inhales at the coolness, which makes her nipples harden at the touch. He dips his head, taking one into his mouth. Imelda sighs at the sensation of Héctor's mouth against her nipple, his tongue brushing over it; while his thumb brushes her other. Imelda moans, squeezing her thighs together in order to relieve the ache between her legs. His hand leaves her breast, reaching down between them to unbuckle his belt and then his pants. Imelda detaches herself from her husband, backing up and settling herself back on their "bed."
Héctor bites the corner of his lip as he watches his new wife, laying in their marital bed, naked and wet for him. He shucks off his shoes and shimmies his pants past his hips. Imelda gasps at the sight of his cock as he lowers his pants, biting her lip in excitement. He lowers himself to the floor, crawling towards her with a hungry gaze in his eyes. She squeaks when he grabs her ankle, tugging her towards him. He crawls over her body crashing his lips to hers. Imelda nips at his bottom lip with her teeth emitting a growl from him as his hand goes back to her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Héctor…" She pleads, pulling away from his lips. He smirks at her, his free hand migrating from her breast down her stomach, down to her throbbing cunt. She mewls as his rough fingers rub against her clit. "Héctor, por favor."
"What do you want mi amor?" he asks, teasing her entrance with his fingers.
"Héctor, make me your wife now." Imelda demands, gasping when he flips his forefinger into her before adding his middle finger with ease.
"Are you sure 'Melda? I was planning on taking my time with you tonight."
"You have the rest of our lives to do whatever you want to me. I just want you inside of me tonight." Imelda begs. Héctor nods, pressing his lips to hers. Imelda brushes her tongue against his lip, begging for entrance. He parts his lips, allowing her tongue to slip inside his mouth as he removes his fingers from her. She whimpers at the loss of contact but moans in his mouth as he glides the head of his cock against her slit, coating himself before entering her.
"Ah. Mi amor." Héctor groans as he fully sheaths himself in her, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He begins to move in her, rocking agonizingly slow inside of her. "Imelda, mi diosa, mi corazón."
Normally Imelda would tell Héctor to shut up and fuck her quickly, but there was no rush tonight. No more hushed voices, or secret meetings.
"Te quiero much, eres perfecta, tu eres mi diosa, eres an hermosa." He moans into her ear; his thrusts slow and deliberate as Imelda's moans echo through the room. Imelda whines, hooking her legs around him to bring him deeper. She grasps his shoulders, her nails digging into the skin. The young woman grasps his hair, bringing his lips to hers once more; hot and open-mouthed kisses shared between the newly married couple.
As she raises her hips to meet his thrusts, Héctor feels himself coming close to his finish. Imelda's mouth trails along his cheek and down his jawline before biting his neck, emitting a groan from the man on her. As she sucks at the sensitive skin, she can hear his breathing getting more erratic and his moans getting louder. She breaks away from her ministrations on his neck, staring into her husband's eyes.
"Finish in me mi amor." Imelda gasps.
"Really?" He asks, still thrusting into her. Imelda nods in confirmation, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.
"Really, make me fully yours. Dios, Héctor finish in me." With that he doesn't need any more prompting, his movements become more erratic and fast-paced as he thrusts into her; his moans becoming louder in their room. He comes undone Imelda gasps as he finishes inside of her. Héctor collapses on top of her, resting his sweaty forehead against the pillow. Their heavy breathing the only noise in the room. The young man sits upon his knees, pulling out of her. He reaches for the bottle of tequila; taking a drink from the bottle and hands it to his wife.
Imelda sits up on her elbows, taking the bottle from him and taking a drink from it; scrunching her face at the burn. Héctor sits back and watches his wife; noticing the way his cum drips from her pussy, down her ass.
"You didn't get to cum." Héctor says, reaching for his undergarment to wipe his cum off of Imelda.
"I still had a good time." Imelda smiles putting the bottle down next to her. Héctor smirks at her, crawling back to her.
"I'll make sure you do." He teases as he licks her slit, causing her to gasp in surprise. It was going to be a long night for the newlyweds after Héctor made sure his wife was satisfied.
September 22, 1917.
Imelda was the first one up the next morning, she had panicked initially when she woke up next to Héctor. The panic dissipates when she sees the gold band around her finger, she smiles as she recounts the events of the previous night. She rests her chin on her husband's chest, her fingers playing with his little tuft of chest hair. She smiles as his brows furrow in his sleep before opening his eyes. He squints at her as his brown eyes peer down at her, a small smile coming to his face as he stretches.
"Buenos días." She greets, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Héctor mumbles something in response, rolling his head away from her. She giggles. "Not a morning person Señor Rivera?"
"Not when I have been drinking tequila the night before."
"I told you to drink water." Imelda says, shifting off of her husband's chest and sitting up in their makeshift bed.
"Lo sé." He groans, rolling onto his side away from her.
"I have just the cure for you. Is there money for me to buy groceries?" Imelda asks, he sleepily nods.
"Look in my suitcase by the wall." Imelda stands on the blankets, stepping over her husband's groggy form to his suitcase sitting near their bedroom door. She opens the bag, noticing a small knitted drawstring bag in the corner of it. She grabs what she needs out of the purse. If she was smart enough, she could ration out the wages for next week's groceries.
Imelda stands up straight, walking across the room to her suitcase. She quickly dresses in a red skirt, a plain white blouse and puts on her hueraches. She braids her hair down her back, tying it off with one of her purple ribbons. She looks back at her husband's sleeping form and steps over it, kneeling over a brushing his hair away from his temple.
"I'll be back soon." She whispers, pressing a kiss to the temple. He sighs in response, nuzzling his cheek into his pillow once more. Imelda stands with a smile, turning away from her husband. She quietly closes the door behind her, skin raising with goose pimples as the sun hits her skin; the warmth of the air enveloping her. She looks at the small building across from their bedroom, she steps across the stone ground and opens the door to the small room. It was dusty throughout the room, no doubt Héctor had cleaned their room before setting up their bedroom.
She steps into the room; it was smaller than their own. It would make a perfect baby room when it came time, she approaches the window where a white iron bedframe lay. She leans over the frame, opening the window to let air into the room. She brushes her hands to get the dust off when she walks away from the window and back out to the courtyard. She looks around the rest of the house, she'd have to explore later, first breakfast.
Imelda walks to the table, looking around the space in search of a basket. She sighs when her search is unsuccessful, deciding to test her luck in the kitchen. The young woman looks around the room, smiling as she notices a small dark brown basket sitting on the corner counter. She grabs it inspecting it, there were a few small gaps in the bottom and the wood was brittle, but it would do for now.
She leaves her kitchen with the basket in her hand, not bothering to look for ingredients in the icebox. Anything in there would be far gone and or would be totally useless as she knew for a fact that Héctor did not know how to grocery shop. She leaves through the gate that sat between the two empty large rooms.
Her walk to the plaza was now much shorter, something she appreciated; if she ever forgot something, she or Héctor could always run out and pick it up. She ignores the stares focused on her when she enters the plaza. It was only 10 am and it was clear nearly every Señora in town knew what had occurred the previous night. Imelda goes to the Arango stand to buy produce for their breakfast as well as groceries for the next few days. She goes into the butcher shop afterwards buying chicken, some eggs, and pork
Imelda places the meat into her basket, shoving aside the produce and smiles at Teresa; the butcher's daughter. As she steps out of the store, she notices Carmen, Margarita and Lucia with their children standing in a semi-circle in the plaza. The young woman approaches the group of young women, two of them look at her horrified.
"Imelda, we've heard the most terrible rumour." Carmen dramatically fans her hand over her chest.
"Y que sería eso?" Imelda asks raising her eyebrow, wondering what could possibly be that horrible.
"We heard from Catalina, that you ran away from home and married." Margarita says, shifting her one-year-old son on her hip.
"Not only that but that you married Héctor Rivera." Carmen looks completely horrified, not paying attention to her two children running around like mad devils. Lucia says nothing, sympathetically smiling at her friend as she holds her 8-month-old son and little Rosita's hand.
"Yes, I married Héctor last night." Imelda confirms.
"Do you know what you've done?" Carmen hisses, crossing her arms in response. Imelda narrows her eyes at her childhood friend.
"I know what I've done Carmen. You've been pressuring me to marry any man since you did." Imelda challenges.
"Not to 'hungry' Héctor Rivera. You were supposed to marry someone like…"
"Like who Carmen?" Imelda cuts the shorter woman off. "Someone like Marco Estrada a man who is a known drunk and hits women? Like Joaquìn who acts like he's smarter than everyone and believes women should be pretty and unheard?"
"Just someone better." Carmen huffs before turning away from them, Margarita following after her friend. Imelda looks to Lucia, who was inching closer to her.
"Carmen's just upset because Pedro won't touch her anymore and Margarita's always besó su culo." Lucia shrugs her shoulders, causing Imelda to chuckle. The young woman looks down to see the small girl standing next to her mamá starting to fuss.
"Gracias. Here, you finish your shopping, I'll take Rosita." Imelda reaches a hand forward.
"Are you sure? Since Julio's birth, she's been so temperamental." Lucia sighs.
"Yo soy, ahora dame tu hija." Imelda takes the small girl's hand in her own, she squats down to the small girl's eye level and distracts her as Lucia steals away to finish her shopping.
Imelda returns home nearly half an hour later with her groceries. She places everything she didn't need in the icebox for later and everything for breakfast on the counter. She gets water from the well, filling a pot with water and bringing it to a boil before adding tomatoes and the Guajillo and ancho chillies into it. She slices an onion, trying to blink away the tears forming her in eyes.
She searches nearly every cupboard trying to look for a casserole dish of some sort, before finding it in the last cupboard near the door. She heats up oil in the dish, before adding the onions. She takes the pot with the tomatoes off the skillet and drains the water from them before blending them finely. She adds the mixture into the dish and waits for it to come to a boil. While she waits, she grabs another pan, placing it on the stove next to the other one. She allows for the oil to heat up in the other pan while whisking four eggs in a bowl. Imelda pours the egg mixture into the other pan, poking at the edges with a fork.
"Smells good." Héctor's voice appears in the kitchen. Imelda turns her head to see her husband leaning against the doorway, his hair messy from sleep.
"It should help you feel better." Imelda says turning back to the eggs. As the eggs cook through, she scoops them into the chilli mixture. She feels her husband's weight on her back as he drapes himself over her.
"So, this is why men get married." He jests, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
"I thought last night was why men get married." She retorts with a smile. He shrugs in response.
"It's an added bonus."
"Of course." She nods, stirring the eggs in with the chilli sauce coating them completely. "Can you grab me plates?" Héctor detaches himself to grab two plates from the cupboards. Imelda grabs one plate from him, serving two eggs onto the dish then handing it back to him. She takes the other plate from him and serves herself breakfast. The young couple goes to the table outside to eat, sitting in silence beaming at each other as Héctor devours his breakfast.
"This is really good." He says, mouth full as he shoves an egg into his mouth. Imelda shakes her head at him. She could get used to this every day.
Héctor had departed for the plaza once the dishes from breakfast were cleaned and put away. He had promised to look for a new job once he and Ernesto were finished playing in the plaza. Though Imelda had hoped she could've spent the entire day with her husband, she also understood that they needed the money. She had taken this opportunity from not being distracted to clean the house. She had started with the empty room across from her and Héctor's and then headed to the largest room in the house. She walks through the archway looking around the grand room, she had no clue what they were going to do with this room. It could be a sitting room perhaps, but as of right now they had no use for a sitting room this big.
She vigorously scrubs the floor with a brush she found in the kitchen that gives her splinters. Imelda ignores the pain of small pieces of wood digging into her skin, this floor had to be cleaned. She leans back on her knees and the balls of her feet, rubbing her dirty hands on the dirty apron she found. Her gaze is drawn to movement outside of the gate, she furrows her brows as she stands from the floor.
Imelda walks towards to gate, her heart skipping when she sees her mamá standing outside of her house. They don't say anything as Imelda opens the gate for the older woman, managing a small smile.
"Would you come in?" Imelda steps to the side, giving room for her mother to walk through. Josefina walks past her daughter into the courtyard of the house, looking around the complex. "Mamá…I..."
"This is what you left for?" Josefina asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "And you're happy?"
"Yes." Imelda simply responds, wringing her hands.
"You've always been so reckless Imelda." Josefina sighs, shaking her head. "You want to make your own decisions, fine. But I won't have your recklessness tarnish our family's name." Josefina walks past Imelda again, making her way to the gate.
"Mamá wait." Imelda calls after her, desperate to get the other woman's attention. She turns back to her daughter, eyes narrowing.
"I am no longer your mamá, I am from now on Señora Posada to you now. You won't ever talk to my sons again nor come to our ranch. Have a nice life as a Rivera, because that is all you have now. Buena noches Señora Rivera." Josefina turns away from the young woman and walks through the threshold, slamming the gate behind her.
Imelda watches, heartbroken as the woman who had given birth to her and raised her turn her back, walking away from her life. She makes her way to their bedroom, grabbing the half-empty bottle of tequila that still sat beside their makeshift bed.
She goes back to the kitchen, grabbing a glass. Imelda sits at the dining table, pouring herself a glass of tequila. She quickly downs the liquid, pouring herself another. Imelda slumps over the table, tracing patterns over the wood.
Imelda has no clue how long she sits there drinking; she doesn't even hear Héctor enter the house. She looks up when she sees him move in her peripheral as he sits in the chair across from her. He reaches his hand across the table, taking a hold of hers. They sit there in silence for a while, sharing the glass to drink.
"I heard what happened. Lo siento mi amor." Héctor squeezes her hand. "Your papá came to see me today in the plaza. He gave me my remaining pay."
"You mean Señor Herrera." Imelda corrects, Héctor winces at her comment. She immediately regrets the way she corrected him; she knew he must've felt bad enough about the situation. "Did he talk to you?" He nods, reaching into his pocket and places a small purse on the table. Imelda's brow furrows at the small knitted object, it had been her Abuelita's.
"He gave this to me."
"What is it?" Imelda asks, reaching over with her free hand to grab it; shocked as she feels objects moving around inside of the purse.
"It's 280 pesos." He says. Imelda stops handling the purse, shocked at the revelation.
"For what?" Imelda chokes.
"He said it was your dowry. He's been saving a portion of his earnings since you were little. It's yours to do with it what you want." Héctor speaks, running his thumb over her knuckles. Imelda looks down at their hands clasped together as her eyes well up with tears. "Imelda…"
She can't hold back her tears anymore as he says her name like that, her lower lip trembles as tears run down her cheeks. Héctor stands from his chair without a second thought, coming to kneel next to his wife who was now just below his eye line. He pulls her to him, holding her as she sobs into the crook of his neck.
