This time when Héctor leaves her alone, Imelda doesn't think twice about it. She spent enough time worrying about that man in life, only to find out his true character in Ernesto's letter, and she won't let herself be subjected to that pain and emptiness again. She can do just fine without him coming to the door with his stupid gifts, and besides, she didn't even want his affections here in the first place.
It makes her furious that he thought that he could pretend that nothing had happened, that he hadn't caused her years of suffering after he stopped sending his letters, that he didn't tear her and Coco's hearts with each passing day that made it clear he wasn't coming back. It angers her more than anything ever had, gives her more rage than when he had suggested leaving in the first place.
And he deserves to know all that pain and suffering. He deserves to feel the heat of her rage through her screaimg and slapping him. He deserves to be disowned and cast off from their familia, he deserves their coldness, he deserves the fact that they don't know a single thing about him.
If he can't be with her in life, then he can't come near her in death. And she's glad that either her shouting at him or cracking his arm with her boot finally got the message through to him.
He never comes to her house again, and at first Imelda feels how quiet it is: empty, unusual, and thick just like the first time he'd left her. She feels a strange diappointment in the air, as if her family actually wants Héctor to appear at their door or come to the shop window during work hours like he occasionally did. She feels the absence of his cheerful smiles or serenading voice. She even finds herself missing his yells when she chased him, which she both scolds herself for because of how heartless she sounds but forces herself not to care.
He's done enough selfish thinking over the past few years; why can't she? She doesn't care about how cruel her thoughts are towards him anymore.
Overtime, Imelda sees Héctor less and less. He no longer plays music in the town square with his friends; he no longer shops at any of the market stalls for any gifts to give her; he no longer waves, smiles, or even looks at her the few rare times their paths cross. She only sees him nine times after their fight, and each time he looks more worn out and depressed than the last, his clothes more faded and ripped and his bones more dusty and gray, his eyes and entire expression emptier from the times she encounters him to the day he leaves her life completely.
Imelda tells herself not to care when she stops seeing him around, and unlike the first times she tried to block him out completely, this time she's able to turn a blind eye without any struggle. She hates herself for ever thinking about him, spending many sleepless nights worrying about him, for trusting him with her heart in the first place when she should've known he never cared about her enough to fully love her.
She doesn't think of Héctor's broken expressions. She refuses to remember any of her past moments with him or nights spent dreaming of him and the memories of the times she thought he cared.
She forces herself not to care about him ever again, so she no longer has to experience the pain that had made her stronger and showed her what reality feels like.