Florencia had been dozing in the rocking chair in the nursery, next to the crib that held her hermoso bebé, when she heard a clacking sound. She blinked into alertness, already questioning if she had actually heard something or if she was imagining it again. She had done that a lot lately. The moment she was half asleep, her brain would trick her and suddenly every rustle of the trees was him. Bruno Madrigal. It never was. She knew it wouldn't be. He was gone.

She looked to the bebé he had left in his place. At only a few days old dark wispy curls already sat atop his head as he lay cocooned in his blanket. She couldn't quite tell what colour his eyes would settle in to, but she hoped he had his Padre's beautiful bright green, instead of her own hazel and brown. His other features were still too small and infantile to decided who he would take after more just yet. He was perfecto.

Then the clatter of something hitting the shutter in the other room sounded again. And she wasn't imagining it this time. With cautious hope building in her chest, Florencia made her way through the second story of her little house, throwing her old shawl around her as she went. She heard it again as she got there, saw as the shutter moved with the impact. Quickly she threw it open, leaning out and searching the semi-lit street below for any sign of the man she hoped to find.

There. Ay! It was him. It was Bruno, standing there looking as hesitant and awkward as he had a little over nine months ago. He must have heard somehow; it was too strange a coincidence otherwise. She waved him over, shutting the window behind her and tiptoeing quickly through the house so as not to wake her hombrecito. He was here. After all this time, he was really here! She pulled him into the house, her face lighting up at his familiar stumble. She shut the door behind him, hoping none of her nosy neighbours had seen him enter. As much as she didn't care about what people thought of her, she didn't need more rumours circulating about her. She threw her arms around his slim waist, tucking her head into his neck and inhaling his scent.

"Bruno." She sighed, feeling tears beginning to fill her eyes. "You're actually here."

She pulled back to look up at him. He was thinner and his hair was a little wilder than it had been the last time she saw him, but he was the same old Bruno; hesitant, hopeful and perpetually confused about why she gave him the time of day. Even then, as she held him close and smiled up at him, so obviously pleased to see him, he peeked out from under his hood with a look on his face that so clearly said he had expected things to go differently, before it shifted to one of gentle awe. His emotions had always shown so clearly through his large green eyes and while he was looking at her, she could easily believe that she was the most beautiful woman on earth.

"I, err, I came as soon as I heard about..." He muttered, his gaze darting over her, taking her in.

"I'm glad you did." She assured him, leaning into him and rising on the balls of her feet so she could reach his lips.

He wasn't very tall, only a little taller than five foot, but he had at least five or six inches on her. He bowed his head to meet her. His hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides until then, reached up to find her face, her hair. She wanted to deepen the kiss but had to pull away, to look at him. His hands fell away from her as she did, but she didn't let them get far, clasping them within her own.

"Do you want to see him?"

Bruno only nodded, his eyes rushing away from her and to the stairs, some of the stiffness that had melted away during their kiss making it's way back into his frame. He stalled momentarily as they reached the bottom of the steps, but she quickly encouraged him with a smile and a tug to his arm. She pressed a finger to her lips as she pushed open the nursery door. He paused again in the doorway, and she left him there to approach the crib. Her pequeño was just as she had left him, fast asleep and infinitely adorable. She felt Bruno come up beside her, looking down at their hijo.

"He is perfecto." He said, quiet and rasping, so as not to wake the bebé. "Lo siento mucho, Florencia."

She turned to him then. She could see tears build in his eyes as they caught the candlelight and his chin beginning to wobble beyond his control. Oh, Bruno.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He continued, his voice breaking as he tried to hide his eyes behind his hand. "I should never have-"

"No." She interrupted him.

She knew Bruno. Knew how he blamed himself for everything that ever went wrong. Knew how he must have been blaming himself for this. How long had he known he'd left her with a babe in her belly? How long had he stewed in his self-loathing? With no one there to talk him out of it.

"I am not sorry, mi vida. I don't care what people call me and don't care what my Padre said. I care that I have a beautiful, perfect son with the man I love. I know you would've been here if you could. I know you would've married me if only they would have let us." She reached up to clasp his face between her hands, brushing his hood away as she did. "When you came to me to tell me you were leaving, I was the one who pulled you close and wouldn't let you go. I knew what the consequences might be, but I did it anyway. I wanted, want to be with you."

"I still can't stay." He closed his eyes as if in physical pain. "I still- The vision- I'm, No one can know I was here."

She'd thought so. She had hoped... But no, she had known in her bones the moment she saw him. Whatever he had seen, whatever was coming, was too important. He had told her he had to stay away all those months ago and the birth of their son wasn't going to change the future somehow.

"It's okay."

"It's not." He sobbed and suddenly it was as if a dam had broken and there was nothing he could do to staunch the wave.

Florencia quickly dragged him away from the sleeping bebe and on to the landing, pulling the door to behind her and wrapping her arms around him. He buried his head into her shoulder, desperately curling around her as he tried to stifle any sound he was making. She felt her heart break for him. She wished she could do more than hold him close and rub her hands across his back. His body shook as he gasped for breath and his fingers spasmed in the desperate hold he had of her nightgown.

They stood there for a while, clinging to each other but eventually, Bruno's breathing slowed, and his body relaxed into hers. Still, she said nothing as she waited for him to be the one to break the silence. When he pulled back, he did so slowly as if reluctant to do so. His hands didn't leave her either, instead finding her hips and staying there.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"There is nothing to be sorry for." She whispered back, leaning up to plant a chaste kiss to his lips.

He sighed, rubbing his face dry on the sleeve of his shirt. He looked tired. Part of her wished to ask him to stay, but she knew she shouldn't. He couldn't. It would only make it harder for him and that wasn't what she wanted to do at all. Instead she held her tongue and stroked up and down his arms. Just as he looked to be about to say something, a noise interrupted them. A snuffled followed by a little whine. The bebe had awoken. He was due a feed, so she had expected he would. Bruno clearly heard him too, turning from her to the almost closed door. She pulled away, hoping he would follow as she went to see to her pequeño.

"Hola, mi bebé." She cooed, lifting him into her arms and sniffing him to check if he needed changing. "Looks like you're fine for now. I bet you're hungry, aren't you? We'll just get you settled, and you can meet your papá. Won't that be good?"

Bruno hung in the doorway, watching with wide eyes as his son began to fuss. She took ahold of his hand as she passed, the bebe settled in her other arm. She wouldn't let him leave just yet. She knew he would have to go back to wherever he was staying, probably before the night was through, but she still had so much she wanted to tell him. So much she wanted to ask. And she didn't know when she would get the chance to see him again. She pulled him into her bedroom and on to the bed next to her, once she was situated.

"Here," She said, passing her hijo over. "Hold him a second."

Bruno briefly, visibly panicked, his hand flailing for a moment before he carefully took his child, supporting his head and bum. She knew he must have held new-borns before. He did have four sobrinas and a sobrino, so he must have known what to do. But it was amazing watching him do it. Watching as his eyes went wide and so full of love for the tiny, squirmy being they had made together. She pulled herself away, working to open the buttons that ran down the front of her nightgown. If she waited any longer, she was going to start leaking.

He flushed when she asked for the bebe back, taking in her visible breast before pointedly looking away. She could only roll her eyes and settle her bebé to feed. It didn't take too long for Bruno to get over his embarrassment and lean into her shoulder, looking down at their hijo's face as he suckled.

"Did- Have you decided on a name?" He asked into the comfortable silence that had enveloped them.

"I like Dante." She turned to him, feeling suddenly apprehensive. "Do you?"

"Dante." He repeated, reaching out to run a gentle finger over his hijo's cheek as he did so. "Sí, it is a good name."

She smiled down at her bebé, pleased she had been able to ask his papá's opinion. She had worried, as her due date drew nearer and nearer, that whatever she chose would be wrong. Would be something Bruno would hate. She was so happy he liked her first pick.

"Dante Pedro Oscar Velasco Fernández." She hummed as she felt her hijo finish drinking, lifting him on to her shoulder and reaching for his burping towel. "I figured there were enough people in town naming their children after your parents, so it wouldn't raise any suspicions. Oscar was my mother's father's name and there some really great stories about..."

She felt Bruno momentarily tense at her side and sigh. Looking up at him, she saw as sadness overtook his features again.

"He isn't a Madrigal. I mean, that's not what people will know him as." He answered her questioning look. "It's my fault. If I had been here, if I had taken responsibility..."

"This vision you had," She began, still patting the newly named Dante on his back, waiting for him to burp. "The reason you left, it was important, wasn't it? You wouldn't have left like you did if it wasn't."

"You're right, mi vida. It's the only way I can protect mi familia. No one can ever know what I saw." He scrubbed an arm across his face. "I just... I wish thing could be different. I wish I had never seen what I saw. I wish I had been here when you found out you were with child and that I could have done the right thing and made you mi esposa. I wish mi hermoso hijo could grow up in the Casita with his Primos and Tías and Tíos. I wish mi Madre knew she was an Abuela again. That he could be Dante Pedro Oscar Madrigal Velasco."

She couldn't help but snort. "No one would use his apellido materno. No one uses yours, Bruno Madrigal Seguró."

He let out a puff of air that was almost a laugh. "It's Bruno Jorge Hernando Madrigal Seguró actually. I'm named after both my Abuelos. What about you?"

"Okay, but don't laugh. It's Florencia Alma Velasco Fernández."

"¿You're named for mi Mamá?!"

She laughed aloud at his expression, handing him back his hijo. She buttoned up her nightgown, and righted her clothes as pulled herself off the bed.

"I have to put him back down now and hope he won't scream the second someone isn't holding him."

She could tell he was reluctant to give him back and it warmed her heart to see it. Once the bebe was settled and thankfully quickly back to sleep, she joined him as he hovered in the hallway. In the minutes she had been gone, all the humour and ease had fled from his frame. He'd hunched over on himself, one arm reaching across his chest to grasp ahold of the other. She stepped into his space, taking his hand and holding it between her own. When he said nothing, she pulled him back into her room and on to her bed. Together, they settled into each other, holding one another close.

"Why didn't you tell people? That I'm his Padre." He eventually whispered, putting the thoughts that had been circling around his head into words.

"I... I worried your Madre would call me a liar." She sighed, turning further into Bruno's arms. "That she'd say I only named you as the father because you weren't there to deny it. Or that she might say I was after your family's status, or trying to trick the miracle into giving Dante a gift, or... You'd been gone months before I realised I had fallen. By then mi Padre had already begun talking with Señor Montoya about Cisco and me. When I told him I was five months pregnant and that it wasn't even Cisco's... Well, he was so angry, angrier than I'd ever seen him. He started demanding to know who I had been with..."

He hadn't put it so politely as that. He screamed in her face, asking to know who she's whored herself out to. Commanding her to tell him what she had gotten for selling her body and damning her soul. For bring shame to the familia.

"... It just didn't seem like a good idea to tell him it was you. I mean, I'm sorry but he's never liked you. Mi familia has always bought into the whole 'Cursed Bruno' nonsense." She shot him an apologetic look, but he only shrugged, his expression one of resignation. "I know your gift doesn't work like that, mi vida. You can't control the future any more than the rest of us. You only see it."

He thanked her, holding her close and planting a kiss in her hair. She hated that he felt he had to thank her at all.

"Mi Padre said I better marry whoever had knocked me up. But you were gone, so I couldn't." She sighed, breathing through the tears that threaten to appear. "He kicked me out after that. Said he wouldn't have una puta sucia under his roof. I went to the church after that, and Señor Flores talked Señora Gacia into letting me stay with her while he organized this little place. He asked who the father was too, but... Even if everyone believed me and Señora Madrigal accepted that little Dante is her nieto, he would still be illegitimate. Only wedding bells might change people's view on that, on him, but that can't happen if you're not there. And I know you can't come back. I understand, mi vida. For you to leave at all, it must be so important. I know you love your familia."

She heard a quiet tap, tap, tapping of his knuckle against her headboard, a sure sign her amante was feeling stressed. She ignored the sound and the mantra he breathed as he did it, not wanting to embarrass him if he thought he was hiding it from her.

"Then I started to think about If people knew you were the father of my child. Someone would have started trying to pressure me into marrying, to give Dante a Papá. Because you were gone, and no one thinks you're going to come back. But now... Now, everyone thinks I was having, or might still be having, an affair with a married man. And no one wants a wife who might be unfaithful. That keeps any marriage talk at bay."

It didn't however keep away the catcalls or the inappropriate offers shouted at her sometimes. Nor did it make it any easier when people she had known her whole life physically turned from her, pretending they didn't see her. She'd never been an out-going sociable type of person, but she'd always made sure to be polite and friendly. It hurt to suddenly have people looking down their noses at her. Mariella, her once best and pretty much only friend, had whispered that they couldn't be seen together anymore when she'd tried to talk to her at the market.

"Oh, mi vida. Lo siento." He whispered.

"It's not all bad. I have more freedom than I had before. I can wear what I want, say what I want, do what I want without mi Padre and Hermanos having a thousand and one rules about what a good catholic girl should be doing. Señora Rivera, she runs La Vida es una Puntada, she said my embroidery's really good, and she likes my bead work enough that she gave me a little job and she's teaching me her trade as we go. It's so much better than everything I had to do on the farm. As long as Dante and I have food on the table and a roof over our head, we'll be fine. And I can do that, Bruno. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't need you."

"That's- It's good that the both of you are fine." Was his only response.

"I might not need you, but I do want you here. Only you." She impressed upon him, reaching to gently turn his face towards hers. "Just in case you were wondering."

She kissed him then, slow and sweet. Her eyelids felt heavy when she pulled back and saw that he looked a little tired and dazed too.

"I have to go before I fall asleep here." He told her, his face full of regret and longing as her idly played with a lock of her hair. "I'll come back again. Later in the week. Prometo. We'll talk more."

And she knew he'd keep his promise. He would leave again, back to wherever he had was staying but he would be back. He would come back to her and their hijo. And it would be soon. Only days from then, instead of the months and months she had passed without word.

"Are you good, wherever you are?" She asked as they almost reached her front door. "Is there anything you need? Food, blankets, anything?"

"I'm fine, mi cielo."

He startled her when he reached for her, taking the initiative and kissing her passionately.

"I have missed you." He crooned; her face still cradled in his reverent hands.

Then he was pulling away, lifting his hood back over his eyes, leaving, slinking into the semi-lit street with an over-the-top flamboyance that was so him, it made her want to cry. She didn't linger, pushing the door shut and engaging the latch. She climbed the stairs again and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her. She had to sleep while she could. Dante would be awake again in an hour or two, wanting another feed and probably dry clothes.

Bruno might be gone again, but unlike last time he had promised to be back. And he would. He'd come back.

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As was the norm for the past six month, since the birth of her dulce bebé, Florencia awoke to the sound of high-pitched crying. She sighed into the pillow, knowing that it was probably only a little past midnight and that she only had maybe an hour and a half of sleep under her belt. Still, she forced her tired body to cooperate, heaving herself upright and reaching for the candle and matches she kept on her bedside. But, before she could light the candle, she heard the door to the nursery open and faint low tones of a man talking.

Suddenly she was up, ferociously launching herself across the room, almost losing her footing on the landing as she turned. Catching herself on the doorway, she wildly took in the scene before her, ready to leap into action.

"Are you okay?" Bruno asked, lifting their hijo into his arms.

The wind went out of her the second she recognized his silhouette. Part of her felt like just falling to the ground and sleeping right there in the doorway, a wave of tiredness hit her so hard. Instead, she made her way across the room to the rocking chair, undoing the front of her nightgown as she went.

"Fine, mi amor. I just didn't know you were coming tonight." She gestured for him to hand her the bebe and she secured him to her breast when he did. "How did you get in?"

"Through the window. " He answered giving her a somewhat sheepish smile and a tiny shrug. "You didn't hear me knock and I could make out mi hombrecito starting to kick up a fuss."

"He's always kicking up a fuss." She mumbled, fighting to keep her heavy eyelids open.

He chuckled under his breath, crouching down beside the chair so he could run his fingers through Dante's thick, black hair. Comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft suckling sounds their hijo made as he fed and the faint creak coming from the wooden chair as it rocked back and forth. She idly thought about all the work she was expected to get done the following day. She had almost completed Señorita Castillo's order before she went to bed, so it wouldn't take long to finish that off. Then there was the dress for Señora Muñoz's eldest daughter's Quinceañera and seventy to a hundred flowers that needed embroidering around the skirts. It would probably take a few days, but it would be worth it in the end. Acacia would look amazing as she twirled the dance floor with her Padre and Hermanos.

She hadn't realised she had closed her eyes until her bebe was suddenly being lifted from her arms. She tensed, her eyes flying open and blinking up at Bruno. He already had the burping cloth over his shoulder and was bouncing on his heels as he patted Dante's back.

"Go back to sleep, Reni." He told her, using the cutsie nickname that somehow always managed to make her blush.

"No," She denied, rubbing her eyes and fighting back a yawn. "You're here. I want to spend a little time with you. I don't see nearly enough of you as it is."

"You're tired, mi vida. Go lay down at least, let me spend a little one-on-one time with mijo here. Hmmm? Once he's burped, I'll change him and put him back down. I know the routine. Bedtime is not playtime."

She was tired. So tired, even her body felt heavy as she hoisted herself out of the rocking chair. She leant into Bruno's other shoulder, wrapping one arm around his lower back and resting her other hand over the one he had supporting Dante's bum. Six days out of seven, she was a single parent and her hijo had no one to rely on but her. However, once a week, sometimes twice, his Padre would sneak down from where he was hiding in the walls of the Casita and spend the night with them. And Florencia lived for the days that he did.

He was such a good papá. He'd never baulked from a dirty nappy or did anything other than sigh if he got spit up on. Sometimes, when he got the rare opportunity, he'd sit with Dante in his lap and ramble on about whatever story he had been writing or silly thing this pet rats had done. Recently, their bebé had begun burbling back at him and Bruno's face lit up every single time he did.

"Gracias." She sighed, stretching to press a kiss to his prickly check.

She hadn't planned to, but she must have dozed off the moment her head hit the pillow, only to wake again when she felt the mattress dip as her amante climbed into the bed behind her, slipping under the covers. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his body. She noted that he'd taken off his ruana when she turned, tucking her head under his chin and palms against his chest.

"Dante?" She asked without opening her eyes, her voice barely audible.

"Snug as a bug."

Good. Hopefully he would stay like that until morning.

She drifted back off, relishing the feeling of her querido's warm body beside her. When she woke again, she felt rested and relaxed. Bruno was gently rubbing her arm, calling her name. It was morning and he had to go soon, before the sun began to rise. His face was torn, as it usually was when it came time to leave. She brushed a thumb across his cheekbone, nudging him towards her so she could kiss him. It didn't take much encouragement for him to melt into her.

They began slowly, with fingers loosely tangling in hair and breathy sighs, but before long his mouth was on her neck and his thigh had slotted between her own. She made haste in undoing half buttons of his shirt before pulling over his head. He was quick to aid her, finding the hem of her nightgown and stripping her of it as well. She tended not to wear underwear to bed, so he had a bit of catching up to do, wiggling free of his trousers and undergarments. Then they were just running their hands over each other's naked skin, enjoying the warmth, the closeness. He always seemed to particularly enjoy running his hands over the pinkish-silvery lines that now stripped her abdomen and breasts, calling them beautiful and planting kisses and licks along them. It was almost strange to think he, the father of her child, had never seen her naked without them.

"Let me taste your cosita, mi vida." He hummed with his face pressed against her stomach.

And that sounded great, enticing even, as they had had quite a bit of practise in the six months since he had come back to her. But she wanted more. She wanted what they hadn't done since that fateful night more than a year ago.

"I want you inside, Bruno."

He groaned. "You sure?"

But he was already moving back up her body, paying special attention to her sensitive breasts as he went.

"Ay, si, si. Por favor." She ran her hands over his face, pushing his hair out of the way so she could look into his eyes. "I want you to take me, mi amor."

He attacked her lips with his own in answer, one of his hands coming down to grasp her thigh and hike it over his hip. She arched her back as he rubbed against her, biting her lip, not wanting to be too loud. She really didn't want Dante waking up and interrupting them just then.

He entered her much easier than he had the first time, leaving her only to appreciate the stretch of her muscles as she enveloped him. He asked after her, once he was fully seated within, a familiar wrinkle between his brow forming as he worriedly looked down at her. She was quick to give her assurance, rocking into him and encouraging him to begin to move within her. Then he was kissing her, his tongue meeting her own and their breath mingling as they panted, their pace increasing. Her hands ran down his back, enjoying the subtle strength of his frame and the firmness of his arse as it flexed with every thrust. His fingers wormed their way between them, circling her clit and it wasn't long before the sensation sent her over the edge.

"¡Joder, Meirda!" He swore, pulling out of her and spilling himself over her stomach. "Ay, mi amor. Perfecta, you're perfecta."

He collapsed into her side, one of his legs resting over the top of her own. With a hand on her check, he turned her towards him and begun kissing her, slow and almost sleepily. It was so tempting to give in and doze off, basking in their post-coital rush. But she knew he had to go before the village began to rise and she had to shower before Dante woke with a shrill demand for his breakfast. So, regrettably, she reminded him of the time and helped him quickly clean up their mess.

In her rumpled and slightly damp nightgown, her favourite shawl around her shoulders, she watched Bruno walk down the street away from her, and back towards the hill his family home stood upon. She knew once he got there, he would sneak into an opening the magical Casita provided him and go back to living within the walls, listening to his Familia as they went about their day-to-day lives. Without him. She wished he could stay here, with her, with their hijo, but she knew she couldn't hide him as effectively as the Casita did. Someone would notice him.

She shut the door and made her way back upstairs to begin her day. By the time she had showered and dressed, the sun had begun to rise beyond the mountains that encircled the Encanto, turning the sky from deep dark blue to a light blueish grey. Dante was awake and burbling to himself when she opened the nursery door. She chattered to him as she got him ready, pausing every so often, as if in conversation, and agreeing with whatever incomprehensible babbling her hijo filled in the gaps with.

Once they had both had eaten, she settled him on to his play mat, got out his toys from the small chest that sat in her living room and got started finishing off the beaded necklace for Señorita Castillo. By lunch, the piece was complete, and she had wrapped it up, ready for delivery. Dante acquiesced to a nap after his meal of breast milk and mashed carrot, so she was easily able to start work on Guillermina Muñoz's dress, managing a whole hour and a half's worth of embroidery without interruption. She carried on once her mijo was awake, only pausing for a significant length of time to feed the two of them dinner and put her bebe to bed. She worked until it grew too dark to continue, before turning in herself.

The next day was almost the same, different only in that she spent an hour of her morning at the market, stocking up on the things she needed and ignoring the dirty looks thrown her way. Dante enjoyed the sights, secured to her back with her rebozo and giving a shrill shriek to people who passed them by.

As was usual, Bruno's hermana, Julieta, was in the market square handing out her miraculously healing arepas to the line of people waiting, all having some minor injury or another. She had her youngest daughter with her, Mirabel. Her hijo's prima. The one who didn't get a gift, whose door had just disappeared without explanation. She was sweet girl, a little shy but eager to please.

Florencia wasn't stupid. Her Padre might not have let her go to the youngest Madrigal's quinto cumpleaños, but she had known it was happening and she had put two and two together the day after Bruno's midnight visit, when she had heard what had happened during the ceremony. No one understood what had happened. Everyone had been asking each other what it meant and why it had transpired as it had. Señora Madrigal had surely asked Bruno to look into the future for answers. And whatever it had been that Bruno saw, had been the thing that had sent her amor into exile. 'To protect his Familia.'

Julieta smiled at her when she saw her staring. She smiled politely back, before quickly turning away.

She had always been nice to her. She'd once, before Bruno's 'disappearance', thanked Florencia for being her brother's friend and said how good it was that her 'hermanito' had someone her could count on outside of the familia. It had been completely unnecessary and a little embarrassing, but sort of nice at the same time. To be appreciated for something she wanted to do and hadn't been forced into, like managing the farms record keeping. It wasn't her fault her hermanos were so bad at math.

And even after she had become a pariah, practically the Whore of Babylon if you listened to some people, Julieta was still nice to her, still spoke to her as she had before and had even taken to delivering her food once she had been put on bedrest in the last weeks of pregnancy. But she couldn't let herself get too close. Couldn't be too friendly and certainly couldn't accept an invitation to the Madrigal Casita. Because what if they recognized the shape of Dante's large eyes as they slowly began to lighten to a greenish hue? What if the miracle recognized his heritage and the house gave away his paternity somehow? She was already worried about what would happen when her hijo turned five. Would a door still appear if he had never set foot in the Casita?

She went home, bags in hand and once everything was put away, lunch had been served and she had put Dante down for his midday nap, she settled in to work on the Quinceañera dress once more. A few days passed, and apart from sitting in the back pew at church on Sunday and chatting to Señora Rivera about how she thought she was doing in her lessons in dressmaking on Tuesday, her routine rarely varied.

Bruno didn't come that week. She worried something had happened but had no way to check on him. The longer it went without a visit from him, the harder it became to sleep. She spent her nights tossing and turning, her ears pricked at every rustle or creaking sound, hoping it was him. Maybe someone had seen him as he left last time. Maybe Bruno just thought someone had seen him. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

A quiet ratta-tat-tat on her door just after sunset almost three weeks after his last visit made her smile with relief, and she rushed to let him in.

He side-stepped through the door, hovering out of reach even after she had closed the door behind him. Something was wrong. He wasn't looking at her either, she realised, peering under his hood to try to get a read of his face. He held himself oddly still, especially for him. He was a perpetual fidgeter after all.

"What's happened, mi vida?" She asked, opting for a soothing tone and taking a cautious step towards him.

He twitched away from her as she moved closer, before stuttering at her, "Did I... Have I, have I r- ruined your life?"

"No mi amor. Never."

Her answer was quick and definite. And true. Her life was harder now than it had been before she knew him, but it was in no way ruined. If she could change anything, she'd want him to spend more time with her, with their hijo. But she understood why things were the way they were.

Still, her words seemed to do little to calm him down. His fist reached out, finding the door frame and wrapping his knuckles against it. Knuckles she could see were red and puffy, like he had been doing it for a while. She'd learnt in their more than two years of friendship that knocking on wood, throwing salt over his shoulder and reciting children's rhymes under his breath made him feel better. That he couldn't always contain the urge to do those things, especially when he was feeling anxious. She'd never seen it quite this bad though.

"Come sit down." She gestured towards the sofa. "What's going through that head of yours?"

He hesitated, swaying slightly with indecision, before finally making his way over and sinking down next to her. She reached out and clasped his swollen hand between both of her own and waited. Waited for him to get his thoughts in order. She just had to be patient.

The hand she wasn't holding ran over his face, knocking his hood from his head and ruffling his hair as he rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed, his eyes darting about her living room, but never once pausing on her face. His lips with swollen as well, where he had clearly been biting it. Another nervous habit. But it was odd that the wounds were still there. Didn't he have pretty much direct access to Julieta's cooking?

"Mi Familia," He began, grasping the edge of his ruana and twisting it in his hand. "They were, were having dinner and Luisa asked- She asked if I was ever coming back and, and, and-"

He let out a sob. He wrenched his hand from her and pressed it too his mouth, bending forward and hiding his face behind a curtain of hair. She shuffled closer to him, wrapping her arm around his back and leaning into his shoulder.

"Pepa suddenly summoned up a storm and Mi Madre- she just, she said it wasn't appropriate talk for the dinner table. That I wasn't appropriate to talk about. And, and, and- I mean, they've all been mentioning me less and less, especially in front of Mamá, but this was the first time she actually..." He explained, his words coming out in fits and starts as he struggled to speak through his tears. "I shouldn't have been so surprised. I've always been a disappointment to her. I'm Bruno and I can't do anything right, but it's like- I'm gone! I left, didn't I? How can it- Why is it getting worse when I'm not even there to mess things up?"

She didn't know what to say. They were his Familia and the Madrigals; she wasn't exactly comfortable speaking against them in any way.

"Then I was thinking about you and-"

"You've never messed things up with me." She interrupted him. "You've always been good to me and you're an excelente padre."

"You got kicked out when I got you got pregnant, and your Familia won't talk to you now." He finally made eye contact with her, if only to send her a confused expression.

"If mi Familia won't except Dante just as he is, bastardo or no, then I'm not very interested in what they have to say. And, can I add, mi hijo is the greatest gift I have ever received. I love him with everything I have and every day it a joy. Even when it's a nightmare."

She got a chuckle from him with that, and he allowed her to take his hands in hers once more. She looked at them, running a thumb around the slowly bruising flesh.

"When did you last eat, mi vida?" She asked now he seemed to have calmed down some.

"I don't- I'm not sure. Yesterday, maybe?" He mumbled, an embarrassed note entering his tone.

She could easily believe it. He looked tired too. And pale, probably from the lack of sun. She worried about him. How alone he must be so much of the time.

"How about I make us a little something to eat and then we go get ready for bed?"

"You're wearing clothes." He replied, before he heard back what he said and blushed bright red. "No, I just meant, erm, it's been a while since I caught you before you'd already gone to bed. I almost forgot what you looked like in anything other than a nightgown."

She laughed, making her way to the kitchen anyway and beginning to fix them a quick meal.

"Do I look nice?" She called back, her tone teasing.

She hadn't heard him follow her, so she startled when he sipped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder so he could watch what she was doing.

"Always." He crooned into her ear. "You're always beautiful to me. In this lovely blouse/skirt combo, in nothing at all or even in your rumpled nightgown with vomit on your shoulder and your hair a tangled mess. La mujer más hermosa del mundo."

She giggled, pleased that she'd managed to cheer him up. They ate, shared a long, loving kiss as they showered and wrapped around one another once they were in bed. He'd grown more and more physically affectionate as the months passed and he continued stealing night with her. She would have found it endearing if she thought it was only due to his growing confidence in their relationship. Instead, she worried it was more due to the isolation beginning to get to him. She loved this handsome, quirky, sometimes shy, always anxious man. He was so good, so selfless, so brave.

She ran her fingers through his hair, watching as his eyelids dropped and his breathing deepened. She wished she could help him. But there was nothing to do but love him and hold him and reassure him that he wasn't bad luck. Not to her. Not in her eyes. He was just Bruno, her amante.