None of the Rivera family talked again about Héctor's magazine article, at least not when Imelda could hear it. Even so, the article seemed to linger in the back of her mind, making her reflect on how little she knew about her husband.

She was thinking about him again the following evening as her family walked to the nearby plaza, with Héctor right in the midst of them. From the back of the group, she watched him nearly arm in arm with Rosita, both of them excitedly talking over each other about music and dancing.

"We used to have to avoid the plaza because there always seemed to be something going on," Rosita said with real longing in her voice. "Always a festival or party or just mariachi's cheering away on the corner."

"Ah, that might've been me some time!" Héctor said with a laugh, then paused. "Ehh, although, to be honest, I haven't done that for years and years, so maybe not. It's funny, actually, I, uh... I also avoided this place for the past few years."

"Oh? Whatever for?" Rosita asked.

"Afraid you'd run into Imelda and get yelled at?" Oscar asked.

"Or a boot thrown at you?" said Felipe.

Imelda stared at the ground and let herself fall back another half-step. They were joking; there was no malice intended. Yet it still stung because it was true, and was something she was increasingly coming to regret.

"Ehhh, things just sorta happened," Héctor said in his usual off-hand way. "After a time it was just too painful to listen to music, or watch dancing. And, of course, I knew about the music ban, so it just made sense that I should stop as well."

Imelda was coldly reminded once again how much she had likely hurt her family with her choices. How much pain she had caused Hector, knowingly and willingly. Yet, things were finally beginning to heal. Looking up at him again, she noticed how cheerful he was, his grin almost blinding as he laughed and talked with the rest of their family.

Imelda silently watched him and found herself smiling as well, the joy radiating from him almost infectious. How long had he waited for this opportunity? How long had she denied him this happiness?

They clustered in a small group off on the side of the plaza, while men and women danced in the center with whoops and cheers while a roaring mariachi band played on stage. Imelda kept to the side of her family, feeling uneasy with her estranged husband so close. Although at least her family was happy and able to enjoy music again. Perhaps they would even dance, after so long.

Then a hushed voice from nearby distracted her.

"Psst, hey… is that Héctor? The songwriter?"

"Oh, I think it is! Wow, he's right there!"

Imelda turned and frowned at the speaker, but she wasn't sure who it was. Her eyes scanned the crowd and wondered who was also watching her husband, and wished they would simply leave him alone. Everywhere he went he seemed to catch attention, and once it started it was hard to stop. She knew that Héctor was tired of the constant stares and people approaching him in the street. At least, she assumed it bothered him. It certainly annoyed her a great deal.

Sooner than she expected, the song ended and the dancers and crowds cheered. Héctor was suddenly at her elbow, standing comfortably with one hand on his hip and eyes fixed on the dance floor.

"I forgot how much fun it is just to watch," he said. Despite his smile, there was a pain there, and Imelda again wondered how much of that was because of her.

"Did you really stop music because of me?" she said, almost surprised at herself, and how soft her voice was.

"Huh? Oh no, no, no!" Héctor said nervously, waving his hands. "Don't even think that. It wasn't your fault, really. I understand why you did it. You were trying to protect your family, and yourself. I get that. Really, I do."

She looked at him with a little smile, and in her heart, she forgave him just a little bit more. And perhaps even forgave herself. She doubted that Héctor could ever truly understand what she had gone through, but at least he was trying.

"But let's not worry about that now," Héctor said, seeming anxious to move away from the topic. "It's in the past."

"Speaking of, I was wondering… what did you do during all this time? Since you died, I mean?"

"Oh you know, this and that," he said with a vague wave of his hand. "It was a long time, there's not a short answer. I had a couple odd jobs over the years: mariachi, building houses, writing music, different stuff like that. But honestly, a lot of the time I spent in Shantytown with friends."

"Who were these friends?" Imelda prompted, aiming for a casual, curious tone, thinking again of that wretched article. "Was there… ever another woman?"

"What?" Héctor said, stunned. "You mean like… no, no, of course not! I was too much in love with you to even look at another woman."

Imelda gave a huff of laughter.

"I'm serious! Everyone knew I was married, so I was completely off the market, no question. Why?" He smirked at her, waggling an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course not," she said, rolling her eyes at his teasing tone. "I was merely curious. It had been a very long time, after all."

"You know I'm yours, mi amor. Always will be."

She looked down at her lap, flustered but pleased. It was amazing how he could make her feel like a young girl all over again. Like when they had first fallen in love.

A new song began from the stage, a jota that they had danced together as teenagers, and even at their wedding. She wondered if he still remembered. For some moments they watched the dancers gather together, couples walking up hand-in-hand with the women in long flowing skirts. Imelda felt her foot want to start tapping and restrained herself on instinct. But, she reminded herself, she didn't have to do that anymore. The music began to thrum within her, and she allowed herself to listen to it, felt the familiar urge to get up and dance. Perhaps she could again, after so many years... with Héctor's hand in hers.

She glanced over at him, also watching the dancing and there was pain and hope and something indescribable in his eyes, almost longing. Had he stopped dancing because of her as well? There was still so much unsaid, so much they had to work through. Were they ready to take that next step?

Héctor shifted nervously at her side. "Imelda, I, uh… would you like to—"

"Héctor?" A young woman called out, making them both look up. "Is that you?"

"Huh? Maris…" Héctor whispered, his eyes wide as he slowly rose to his feet. Then, before Imelda knew what was happening, they were both running to each other and the strange woman leapt into his arms as he spun her around, holding onto each other like long-lost sweethearts.

Imelda felt her mouth hang open before she snapped it shut with a glare that might have set a match on fire. What was he doing? As she watched, they separated and the strange woman gazed into his eyes while he looked tenderly back. Then, as brazen as she pleased, the girl reached out and laid a hand on his chest, touching him as if she had any right! Their lips were moving but no words could be heard over the music, and Imelda felt her heart burn. Who was that woman? What were they talking about?

Imelda didn't recognize her at all, which meant she wasn't from Santa Cecilia. Attractive, with shining black hair in a thin braid between her shoulders, modest but well-made clothes, a narrow beaming face. Young, beautiful, and touching her husband like she owned him. Who the devil was she?

Distantly, Imelda could feel the eyes of her family watching, waiting to see how she would react. Trying to appear collected and calm, she stood and squared her shoulders, just as Héctor and the girl embraced again, holding each other like it was their last moments in the world. Then Héctor abruptly pulled away with a sudden look of unrestrained joy, taking the girl's hand in his and wildly waving with his other. He led the girl towards Imelda with a proud grin, making her pause, alarmingly unprepared for whatever was happening.

"Maris," Héctor said, glancing at the girl at his side. "I'd like you to meet my lovely wife, Imelda."

"Oh, it is such a pleasure to meet you! Really!" she said, seeming overjoyed.

"Y-yes, same," Imelda said, trapped by social etiquette.

"Imelda, this is Maris, an old friend of mine."

"I can't believe it!" Maris said eagerly, looking between them. "Wow, to finally meet you! He's spoken so highly of you, always going on and on about you and his little Coco. It was a running joke among us, haha!"

"After so many years, I guess it did, didn't it? And it's been forever since I've seen you!" Héctor said, still grinning. "What, almost ten years?"

"I think so. Not since, hmm…" she paused, frowning, then shook her head. "Well, too long, anyway!"

Imelda narrowed her eyes at hearing that, liking the girl less and less. If they were so close, why had it been years? Was she only coming out of the woodwork now that Héctor was famous?

She cut through the girl's bubbling laughter to ask, "Pardon me, but how do you know each other?"

"Oh! Maris and I actually met while we were still alive. Her family ran an inn in Mexico City where we had a gig one night."

"Yes, he and Ernesto… wait. Oh geez, that's strange to think of now…Did he really murder you? Uh, anyway, they had played one night for a party, and I was able to listen in. They were wonderful."

"Then, crazy enough, we met up again here!"

"I see," Imelda grit out, looking at them suspiciously. "That was quite a coincidence, I suppose."

"Not really," Maris said, unabashed. "After I died, years later, I actually went to Shantytown looking for him when I heard he was there."

That set off an alarm in Imelda's mind.

"You're saying you only knew each other for a day, yet you went searching for him in the slums? After years?"

Both Héctor and the girl went nervous and quiet under her gaze.

"Oh, I, uh…" the girl glanced at Héctor who just frowned back at her with the tiniest hint of a shake of his head. Or was Imelda just seeing things? Maris fidgeted. "Well, you see… t-the truth is… well, that… that your husband saved my life."

"What?" Imelda said sharply, and looked to Héctor for confirmation, who nodded but didn't meet her eyes, as if embarrassed. Or, perhaps, as if caught in a lie.

"It really wasn't that big a deal," he began to say, but before she knew it the rest of her family surrounded them. Apparently, they had been listening closer than she had supposed.

"Did he really? What happened?" Rosita said.

"How did you manage to do that?" Julio asked, looking at him with surprise.

Héctor looked too embarrassed to speak, so Maris told the story.

"You see, that night we met some men cornered me in the street. They… they were about to hurt me when suddenly Héctor showed up and fought them, letting me escape." She looked down, biting her lip. "I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't been there."

"Oh," Imelda said, stunned.

"Really? Well done, Hector," Oscar said, staring at him with new appreciation.

"I didn't think you as much of a fighter," Felipe said. Which was true, Imelda thought. He had never been one prone to violence. At least not what she remembered of him.

He looked uncomfortable, frowning at the floor. Imelda got the strange feeling that it was more than just embarrassment. She made to step forward, but stopped when Maris slipped her hand into his, making him smile at her, his eyes softening. Imelda had to restrain herself from taking her boot and physically beating the girl away.

But before she could say or do anything to that effect, Maris glanced up, met her eyes, and her face dropped. There was a sudden look of horror and she pulled her hand away, surprising Héctor, and took a step back.

"Oh… oh I'm so sorry! I'm interrupting time with your family, aren't I? I should leave you be."

"Huh?" Héctor said, frowning at her. "You're fine."

"No, that's all right. I should get going anyway, I just saw you and wanted to say hi," she said, falsely casual. "But, uh… are you still staying at Inés's place by the half-sunk dock?"

"It's all sunk now. But yeah, I'm still there. Just me though."

Her smile faltered a moment, with something like pity in her face. "Mind if I come by sometime? Oh, or better yet, you can come by my place."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said softly, and Imelda hated seeing such tenderness directed to this strange woman.

"How about Thursday evening? You can come over for dinner and I'll get some tape for that rib," she said, eyeing him with an admonishing frown. Then her smile returned and she turned to Imelda and gave a nervous little bob. "It really was a pleasure to meet you."

They watched her walk away, staying to the outside of the dancers before disappearing into the crowd.

"Ah, she's a good one," Héctor said, crossing his arms and looking fondly in her direction. "You know, even though she has a good life amongst the Remembered, she'd often come to Shantytown and spend time with us."

"Glad to hear it," Imelda bit out, turning and walking away. Héctor followed after a pause, staying close beside her.

"Imelda? Are you all right?"

"Fine," she snapped, then regretted it. She forced herself to slow down to actually face him, reminding herself not to jump to conclusions. That had caused enough problems in her life. "I'm… surprised, that's all. This was the first time I heard about any of this. You never mentioned it in any of your letters."

"It was actually just a short time before I died. Besides, it didn't seem like something to write about. She's giving me way too much credit. I didn't save her life so much as, well… her honor, you might say." He grimaced, but only for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't want you to worry that I was getting into fights."

She huffed, caring far less about that than she probably should have. "It sounds like you two were pretty close. Didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"Ehh, to be honest, we barely knew each other when we were alive. It was just one night—"

"One night?" Imelda said, glaring at him.

"I mean one day!" Héctor said defensively, putting his hands up. "I just meant, well, we usually play in the evening. Our performances, I mean."

She bit her lip and tried to calm the flare of anger. It was harder than she would have liked to admit. To see Héctor in the arms of another woman, and one who obviously had a history with him… it seemed only a confirmation of her worst fears. She was uncomfortably reminded of that article that spoke about 'the other woman.' Could she have just met her?

"Imelda?" Héctor said, stepping around and putting his hands on her shoulders. "I promise you, Imelda, whatever you're thinking, nothing happened between us."

She gazed at him, and for all the worry in her heart, he seemed genuine. With a great sigh, she conceded. "All right. If you say nothing happened… I believe you."

"Thank you."

She looked at him, but again he seemed unable to meet her eyes. He bit his lip, then said, "It's getting late, I should probably get going. I'll, uh… I'll see you around later, ok?"

She made no reply, but only watched in silence as he too disappeared into the crowd.

Something wasn't right. There was something he still wasn't telling her, but what?

There was still so much she didn't know about her husband.

Elsewhere in the Land of the Dead, Héctor walked back through the side streets, not wanting to speak to anyone. A sickness filled his bones. He was surprised how much it could still hurt after so many years.

Nothing happened…

That was a lie.

Author Notes:

Thanks for reading! Reviews always appreciated :)

The next two chapters are going to be posted back-to-back, so it may take a little longer to get those done, but hopefully soon.

We'll start getting some answers about what secrets Héctor is hiding.