They seemed to get along well.

At first, I thought Eugenio was lying when he said that Mirabel had promised him a date, but she… she followed him without question. Later, I saw them together by a cornfield and she laughed in a way I hadn't heard her laugh in a long time. And it was a pleasure and terribly painful at the same time.

It was clear that the best thing to do was what Abuela said and try to get along with Ramona. If I was no longer free, there would be no chance for Mirabel to hope that something would happen between the two of us; something that should not happen.

But I regretted it.

I knew from the very beginning that I wasn't going to like Ramona. Her hair was long and silky, her eyes slanted and elegant, her figure quite firm and curved, she didn't look her fifty-five and she always had a topic of conversation; seriously, always. Plus, she wasn't that much taller than I was, so she didn't make me feel tiny like I would feel with most women of the Encanto. She was practically perfect, but… she wasn't Mirabel.

I struggled to keep up with her and follow the thread of the conversation despite how out of place I felt at all times; I wanted it to work almost as much as I wanted it to fail; but it was impossible: my mind was constantly on that cornfield, on what would be happening there, on whether she would really forget about me and find happiness.

But it didn't result that way. Finally, I managed to find her; well, rather find them; and what I saw… that wasn't happiness: that was an invisible dagger through her chest as she saw how Ramona's restless hand caught mine.

It was nothing weird, or dirty, nor did it produce any kind of emotion in me. Being touched by that hand was like being touched by a rough old blanket; it heated my skin, but wasn't warm. However, that look of pain on Mirabel's face, the way she left without daring to meet my gaze… There was nothing that deserved to hurt her like that.

Life before was sad, but now it was frustrating. Was there nothing I could do to make her happy? Why did she keep looking at me? Why was she looking for me? Why did she snuggle up next to me? Why me? She had this much younger, more experienced, and infinitely more handsome man crazy about her. Why didn't she take the easy way out and fall in love with him? And why didn't I do the same with Ramona? Why whatever I did was the wrong move? And why did everything have to hurt?

I didn't understand anything anymore and I didn't think I ever would. The only thing I knew for sure was that I never wanted to be the reason for Mirabel's pain again.

And then I saw them; my faithful friends came to my rescue. Only they could help me put an end to that relationship I didn't want to have in such a quick and easy way. The rats had never let me down and they didn't that time either.

A week after being rejected by Ramona, after a tiring day helping the Nogales repair their roof and making prophecy after prophecy at the request of the townspeople, I came home and went straight into my hole. I didn't have the strength to be intercepted again by some begging soul. I needed to rest.

"What's up, prima? Since you've come back you have a worse face than normal."

Camilo's voice in the kitchen crossed the walls and reached me, arousing my curiosity and being followed right after by that of a bitter Isabela.

"Don't you have anything better to do than come and bother me? I want to be alone."

"Actually I came to see if I could find some food without owner or guardian. You'll lose sight of me soon. In fact, you're going to do it right now."

"Camilo, don't turn into Abuela, you know she doesn't like it."

"She also doesn't like me rummaging around in the kitchen and that has never stopped me so far."

"I do not understand how you are so tiny with everything you swallow."

"Hey, I'm already a little taller than tío Bruno. I can die happy now."

"You're right, you're almost big enough not to get lost in the arms of the others."

"Hey, cut it. I'm a good hugger, you know?"

"Prove it."

There was a brief silence and soon Isabela's sobs began to be heard.

"You know… If you wanted a shoulder to cry on, all you had to do was ask for it, okay? You don't need excuses to give your cousin a hug."

"Shut up."

"Do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe not as much as my sister, but I'm a good listener too."

"She told me that I was very special to her, and that she would never forget me…"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Elisa. The woman I fell in love with."

"Oh."

"During this year, she's shown me a world so exciting that not even the cold bothered me, she's given me hope of being loved for who I really am, she's helped me to know myself better, and then she's rejected me for a lizard, a horse, and a cairn."

"I don't think I'm understanding."

"No need. The point is that she has rejected me and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well, you should."

"Oh, really…?" she huffed.

"I'm being serious."

"You know how to be serious?"

"Only when the occasion calls for it."

"And, is this the case?"

"I think you should raise the bar a bit… How are you going to settle for someone capable of choosing a lizard over Isabela Madrigal?"

"It was a very cool lizard…"

"A lizard nonetheless. And you are a wonderful woman, shy and sweet, and surly and brave at the same time, and determined, and strong, and no matter how far that critter's tongue reaches, it will never be as long as the viper's tongue that you show sometimes."

"That's right," she answered laughing proudly just before Camilo complained about the well-deserved pinch he had just received.

"I know…" he said suddenly becoming serious and calm. "I know it's not easy to stop thinking about someone you love, but… I think you should look ahead so as not to prevent yourself from seeing the new things that life brings before your eyes… You never know what the future holds for you."

"I think you are right," she answered with a slightly more cheerful tone. "Thanks for everything, Camilo. It seems that there is a brain under all that hair and a heart that does not fit in that little body."

"Can't you just say something nice without spoiling it with an insult?

"Good question… Nah, I don't think so. Good night, primo."

"Good night, Isabela."

Silence fell again in the kitchen, but a much louder noise began to echo in my head. Camilo was wrong: yes, we could know what the future held for us, and, if I wanted to know which was the correct path that I had to take… if I wanted to know if I should step aside to make way for Eugenio, or if I should fight for what seemed impossible and probably wrong, I had to know what was going to happen to Mirabel.

That day had been exhausting, but it couldn't finish yet: I had one more prophecy to make.