Bruno was feeling quite cheerful as he made his way, flitting from shadow to shadow, to Florencia's casa. Today was his hijo's first birthday, so he'd snuck out of the Casita as early as he had dared, hoping his media naranja would let him to stay up a little while later than she would normally allow. He had spent the week wondering and worrying what he could get Dante for his cumpleaños, on account of him not being able to go to the market. For Florencia's birthday he had managed to pick her a bouquet of flowers, but he couldn't do the same for his son. In the end, at his amor's suggestion, he'd drawn him a picture of some of his rats dressed up in silly outfits. Florencia had promised to pick up a frame for and hang it on the wall of his nursery, where it was very unlikely anyone but them would see it.

It was raining, which helped in him stay hidden by mostly encouraging everyone to stay inside. It also made it harder for Florencia to hear his intentionally quiet knocking. So, after only a brief hesitation, he made his way around the side of the house and found the first-floor window that was usually open. He didn't really like entering through there, it always felt like breaking in, but she had given him permission to do so if she ever didn't answer the door. There was a momentary struggle, as he had to try climbing in with his fingers crossed, but he made it without causing a racket or falling over.

He found Dante alone in the living room, sat on his play mat with his fist shoved in his mouth. He looked into the kitchen as he passed, making his way over to his hijo, but she wasn't there either. Odd. Dante gave a pleased shriek when he saw Bruno and instantly began to crawl over to him. He laughed as he picked him up, soaking in his bright gummy smile and huge hazel eyes.

"¡Hola, cumpleañero!" He greeted, squeezing his hijo tight in his arms. "Where's Mamá, hmm?"

He didn't expect an answer, but he did get one in the form of a 'ma-ma-ma-ma', which he was quite impressed by even if he had done it a few times in the last few weeks. It seemed like every time he came his son was bigger, older, doing something he hadn't done before. He sat up on his own now and crawled and had even begun pulling himself upright on the furniture. Bruno hadn't seen that last one but his amante had told him all about it on his last visit.

"Sí, I am talking about your Mamá. Well done, mijo." He enthused as he turned, starting up the stairs. "Reni?"

The bathroom door was shut so he wrapped his fingers against it and got a faint groan in return.

"Are you okay in there, mi vida?" He called though the door, feeling his shoulders tense and his stomach begin to tie itself in knots.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, rubbing a soothing hand down Dante's back. Bebés could sense emotional distress somehow, he'd learnt that pretty quickly, and he didn't want to upset his hombrecito for no reason. He heard her say his name, calling him inside so he quickly opened to door. Florencia was bent over the toilet, her hair in a limp, messy bun and sweat beginning to darken the back of her white blouse.

"Mi amor," He quickly stepped into the room and reached to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

She nodded, resting her head on her arms on the seat, her eyes closed as she panted. With a murmured reassurance that he would be back, he rushed back down to the kitchen. After a quick internal debate, he put Dante back down among his toys instead of carting back up towards the obviously sick woman.

"Here." He crouched down beside her, making sure she had a firm grip of the glass before letting it go.

She seemed to feel a little better once she had taken a few sips and washed her mouth round. He sat with her, keeping an ear out for their hijo, until she asked him for a hand up. He watched in silence as she brushed her teeth, and they made their slow way back downstairs. He settled her on the sofa, asking if she needed anything else, before sitting down beside her.

"I have to tell you something." She began, grasping one of his hands in her own.

He nodded, helpless anxiety roiling around in his gut as he searched her face for any sign about what she was going to say.

"Bruno, I, I don't think I'm sick. I'm..." Something flittered across her face, an emotion too quick for him to categorise. "I'm late."

He could tell that the air hung thick and heavy after her statement, but the reason eluded him. Late? Late for what? His cluelessness must have been clear for her to see, because she sighed, rolling her eyes at him.

"Mi vida, my period is two months late," She began with a slightly exasperated tone. "I've been feeling nauseous all week, I just threw up, my breasts are sore, and I feel so tired. I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant again."

It took a second for the words to filter through his brain, for them to have some semblance of meaning, but once they did. Ay, once they did!

"We're going to have a bebe?" He whispered, before he was suddenly shooting off the chair, a bright smile on his lips and a joyous laugh escaping his chest. "We're going to have a bebe!"

Florencia rose to meet him, giggling when he threw his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her head. A bebe. A hermanito or hermanita for Dante. A new little hijo or hija. Oh, it was perfecto. So wonderful. And this time he got to be here. He would see it as his niño grew inside her.

"I'll make sure to come see you more often. Prometo."

She pulled away just enough so she could look up into his face. "You'll have to be careful, mi amor. Once people know I'm pregnant there'll be interest in riddling out who the Padre is, again."

He frowned. He never like hearing how the village treated her. He knew he'd like seeing it even less. He knew what it was like when everyone treated you like a leper. He'd had people throw rocks at him, slap him, punch him, hiss at him for being cursed, a demonio, el diablo. He hated imagining what they might spit at her, his maravillosa, hermosa, amable woman. She didn't deserve it. She wasn't una puta, she was his... His.

Still, he didn't want to let his thoughts bring down the mood. It was his hijo's cumpleaños, after all, and that needed to be celebrated just as much as the news of a new little life to add to their pequeña familia. So, he tried to smile as he nodded, pulling her in for a tight hug before letting go and turning to his hombrecito. He sat down on floor with him, pulled out the unfortunately slightly damp picture he had drawn him, pointing to each of the rats and telling him their names. Florencia pointed to the frame she had picked up for him and he sent her an easy smile in thanks.

He spent the next hour playing with his hijo, drinking in every flap of his arms and burbled not-quite-word. When it was time for bed and Dante had begun to fuss, he was the one who took his son to the bathroom to give his hands and face a quick wash and to gently brush the three little teeth that had come through so far. His amor was already in the nursey when they got there, having hung the picture on the wall. It warmed his heart to see it there.

Once their mijo was tucked in and on his way to the land of nod, Bruno almost couldn't help himself as he wrapped his arms around Florencia and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Dios, she was perfecta. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her. He knock, knock-knock, knock, knock, knocked on wood as he passed the doorframe on their way to her bedroom without taking his lips from her. He wanted her. He needed her. Need to be inside her. Needed to- Wait, hold on?

"But I've been pulling out?" The half-asked question was stupidly flying from his mouth the moment he had pulled back. "No, erm- That's not what I meant! I don't think you- I know it's m- I just meant..."

Dios mio, why could he just use words like a normal person? ¡Estúpido Bruno! Instead of getting mad, like she had every right to do over his complete inability to say what he meant, she only giggled, kissing him gently. At least she seemed to find him amusing.

"That's not a hundred percent accurate way preventing pregnancy, mi cielo." She informed him, a smile still playing at the edges of her lips and her eyes alight with humour.

Well, he supposed that's what he got for getting his sexual education from other boys in the school room and what he'd managed to put together after seeing, uncontrollably, countless very private moments due to his visions. His Padre had been dead for pretty much the whole time Bruno had been alive and he'd never felt like he could ask his Madre about stuff like that. There had been a vague talk, when he was about ten, about changing bodies, but he distinctly remembered his hermanas laughing and him running away with a bright red and extremely hot face, more than he did what the conversation had actually entailed.

His face felt a bit hot then too, (he was thirty-six, he should know these things by now!) but he was already being distracted by sweet kisses and hands tangling in his hair. He kissed her all over once he got her to the bed, paying special care to her still only normally rounded stomach, before bringing her off with only his fingers and tongue. The whole time he whispered words of love and worship, about how lucky she made him feel and how perfect she was. After making love, they drifted off to sleep, sweaty and sated.

Bruno woke suddenly to the sound of a bebe crying and someone dry heaving not too far away. Sunlight was coming from somewhere, blinding him and adding to his disorientation. Where was he? The mattress under him screamed at him that he wasn't in his hammock, nor his armchair and he flailed, sending himself falling to the floor. That shocked some sense into him and rushed to go through to the nursery. Picking up his damp and unfortunately smelly son, he wrinkled his nose but pulled him close. With one arm free, he began getting everything together that he needed to change his bebé.

"Are you okay, mi vida?" He called through to her as he heard he wrench and cough.

"Yeah." She groaned.

"Give me a second and I'll get you some water." Dante chose that moment to try to turn over and almost roll off the drawers he had balanced him on. "Nope! Come on, hombrecito. Help me out here. Mamá is sick, so I need you on your best behaviour."

Once he was clean and dressed, he set his hijo down on the rug in his room and put a few of his soft toys next to him. Then he slipped downstairs, checking the window shutters were closed and no one could see him walking about her house, getting her a glass of water. She looked pale and tired when he handed her the glass. Her stomach settled after a while and they left the bathroom, grabbed Dante and made their way downstairs. He made her sit and said he would make them breakfast. He used to cook whenever Julieta was sick or elsewhere, so he wasn't worried for once.

At least, not about cooking. He'd overslept and the sun had risen in the sky. He could hear people beginning to go about their day outside. He'd never spent the day here before. He was always safely tucked within the Casita walls by the time the town was awake and moving around. What if someone saw him? What if they told his Familia, his Madre? What if everything he had struggled with for the last two years was for nothing and he was forced to tell all about the future he had seen? About the Casita crumbling and the mountains splitting open and the miracle failing? About how his vision had placed pequeña Mirabel at the centre of it all.

The familiar wriggling sensation worked its way up his spine, and he felt his stomach clench and roll. He ran his knuckles alone the wooden sideboard, trying to resist the pull, but he couldn't. He knocked at it five times in rapid succession, followed by a rap to his head, muttering under his breath. Dante let out a shrieking laugh that made him turn away from the oven for a moment, to see his hijo looking right at him. Well, at least he was entertaining.

He sat down to eat with his little familia. Watching Florencia struggle to feed their hijo, only to sense his eyes on her and turn to give him a soft smile, he couldn't help but think about all the meals he had 'attended' of late, up at the Casita. The crack in the wall, the only one he had ever been grateful to see, gave him the perfect view of the dinner table. It hadn't taken much effort to shift things around so he could eat and pretend he was sitting out there with them. He'd listen to them talking and if he closed his eyes, he could almost believe it was all just as it had been.

But, of course, they never included him. How could they when no one (but Delores, who was sworn to secrecy) knew he was there? They couldn't look at him or ask him how his day had been. They didn't even talk about him anymore. He'd become taboo and it hurt so, so, so much. Some days, on the bad days, all he did was cry and stuff his face in a pillow, trying to stifle the noise in case his sobrina heard.

Days with Florencia and Dante were never bad days. Even if they started that way and he managed to convince himself that she would want to see him anyway, he only ever found comfort and acceptance with them. She soothed his anxiety and brushed away his tears, all without making him feel like a giant bebe or loco.

"It's light out. I'll have to stay all day." He found himself saying as he picked up their plates.

She just smiled at him, lifting Dante out of his chair. "I know."

"What, erm- What do you have to do today?" He asked, suddenly worried he would interrupt her day.

"I have to finish a few orders for Señora Rivera's, but I'm sure our hijo here can keep you entertained while I work." She said laughingly as he heard her set him down and opened his toy box for him.

He finished washing up before following them into the living room. She was in the corner by the, now closed, window he had come in through last night, head bent as she concentrated on the tiny beads. Bruno sat on the floor with Dante and began asking him what he was up to, enjoying his nonsense babbling as he gestured between a pile of wooden blocks he had stacked and his soft material rabbit. The morning passed by like that, with only the soft clinking of beads and the happy chatter. He wondered if he had ever felt so calm.

Which was of course almost immediately shattered by a knock on the door.

His heart leapt out of his chest. Who was is? Dios, what should he do? Mierda! He jumped to his feet, desperately looking to Florencia for instruction. She pointed to the stairs, and he took off, clambering up them and pressing himself to the wall so he was out of view. When he got there, he realised he wasn't wearing his ruana, only his shirt and trousers. Where was it? Had he left it in the living room? Had he even put it on that morning, when he dragged on his clothes?

He heard the door open. It was too late. He crossed his fingers, breathing as shallowly as he could, hoping against hope that whoever was at the door wouldn't spot any obvious evidence of his presence.

"Hola. Buenos días." He heard Florencia greet whoever was there.

Then her heard the unmistakable sound of his hermana. What was Julieta doing here?

"I meant to drop this off yesterday, but I got caught up. It's for Dante. It was his birthday yesterday, wasn't it?" His sister said, sounding happy.

"Gracias. That's very nice of you." He heard a faint rustle, as he assumed the item was handed over. "You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to." Julieta replied. "Well, I don't want to keep you. Adiós, cuídate."

"Adiós." Then she was shutting the door and he felt like he could breathe again.

He didn't go down the stairs immediately. He gave it a minute so he could go down there without looking like a complete loon. Julieta hadn't seen anything. Everything was fine. Just as fine as it had been all morning. He just had to breath. Slow in, slow out. He was fine. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Everything was fine.

He found his amante sat on the sofa, looking down at whatever his hermana had given her in her hands. It was a blanket, big enough for a child's bed, with a nice zig-zag pattern in three different shades of green. That was nice of her. Or it would've be if Reni wasn't staring at it like that.

"Your hermana suspects Dante is yours." She explained as she looked up at him.

"Ah, umm."

"Will she still think so when she finds out about this one?" She carried on before he could even construct a thought, cupping her stomach. "Julieta is one of the few people who's still nice to me. Now I'm wondering if this is why."

Well, Julieta had always been compassionate and very intuitive. He wasn't at all surprised she hadn't shunned her or said anything mean to her. But su vida was right about the blanket. The main shade of green was almost exactly the same as the green of his ruana. If it had been a poncho instead of a blanket Dante would have looked like a Mini-Bruno, only with slightly darker eyes. Florencia had been careful not to put their hijo in green, the resemblance was too canny.

And if Julita had caught on, what would she think when it became obvious, she was having another child? Dante had come along pretty much exactly nine months after his disappearance, but he'd been gone for almost two years now. Would she assume she'd been wrong, and Florencia was having an affair with a married man, like everyone said, or would she figure out the truth. That he wasn't gone-gone. That he was close and still in contact with his friend, his amante, his media naranja, but not his familia.

Ay, this was bad.

"Try not to worry too much, mi amor. We'll just take things one step at a time." Her voice broke through his quickening thoughts. "Here, take this upstairs and I'll start lunch."

He took the blanket from her and wandered back upstairs to put it in one of the chests of drawers. It was a little too big for the crib, but Reni had been saying it was almost time to get thier hijo a little bed of his own. He supposed the new bebe would need the crib before too long.

Lunch was arepas con huevo with a side of salad. He was still feeling out of sorts because of his hermana's visit and struggled to get the food down. That happened sometimes. His appetite tended to dry up the moment he stared to worry about something. And as much as he wanted to calm down and spend the day relaxing with his little familia, he couldn't stop his thoughts from racing around in his head.

Would this new bebe effect how people saw her? Were two babies out of wedlock worse than just the one? Surely it was all split milk now. Surely it wouldn't change too much. The two of them lived in sin, but not through choice. Not really. He'd marry her if he could, and he was pretty sure she felt the same, as unbelievable as that seemed sometimes. God must know that if he could see in to the hearts of all mankind.

He just hoped his hermana didn't change how she treated Florencia when she found out she was with child again. That she wouldn't feel slighted on his behalf or anything silly like that. He also hoped she hadn't shared her suspicions with Pepa. Pepa couldn't be subtle if her life depended on it. If his stormy sister started hanging around his little familia, looking for answers, it wouldn't be long before his Madre started asking questions too. No one needed his Mamá asking questions and offering her opinions.

He stayed for a few hours after sunset, helping his amante through another night-time bout of morning sickness and putting his hijo to bed again. He wished he could risk falling asleep next to her once more, but he knew the inside of the Casita's walls was the safest place for him. The place he was safest from discovery. He wished he knew that he could come out of them sometime soon, but he knew what he saw. Mirabel had been a young woman as she stood in front of the Casita as is broke/didn't break. Not the little girl she was now and would be for a long while yet.

He found it difficult to unwrap his arms from her waist when it came time to leave. He wished he could just hold her to him forever. He forced himself to only place a gentle kiss on her head as he slipped out into the night, making his way back to the Casita.

He spent most of the next few days doing his best to follow his Hermana about when she was in and anxiously muttering to himself when she wasn't. He didn't think she was just going to start talking to herself about her supposed suspicions out loud, but he couldn't help himself as he watched her, overanalysing her every move. As far as he knew, everyone had thought him and Florencia were friends before he left, and that was all they had been at the time, pretty much. There had been some teasing, but he no one had ever taken it seriously. He'd been thirty-four and she'd been twenty-three. He'd never had a serious relationship before, and it had seemed at the time like his familia were just pleased he was spending time with someone other than them. There had been no hints of a proposal or wedding bells, like there had been for Felix and eventually, once Mamá warmed up to him, Agustin.

So, what was it that had given them away?

88888888888888888888888888888

The answer didn't make itself readily apparent and time quickly passed as it usually did. Dante continued to get bigger every time he saw him, and Florencia did the same, just in a very different way. He had missed this the first time, watching as her stomach popped and she started to give off that pregnant-lady glow. She never mentioned how the village people were treating her, but sometimes when he arrived her eyes were red and puffy. He was never sure if it was hormones or if something had happened. If someone had said something. She still had her job and Señor Flores was still popping round every so often, so he assured himself it couldn't have been too much worse than it had been already.

His hijo had begun walking and talking not long after his birthday and now, every time Bruno arrived at their casa, he screeched out a Papi, and ran as fast as his tiny legs could go, to crash into him. He'd given up on shushing him and just hoped her neighbours were a little too far to tell what he was saying. But his newfound verbal skills had given them something else to worry about.

"He just pointed right at the mural and said papá. I didn't know what to do and it felt like everyone was staring. Dios mio, I'm so sorry." She cried into his shoulder as he held her.

He wasn't exactly good at comforting people. Most things he did when it came down to people was awkward and weird. And other people crying always sent him into near paralyzing panic. But he did have hermanas, so he had some practise, and he knew he owed her his best, considering all the times he had turned up at her house a complete wreck. He held her shoulders tight and told her things were going to be okay, even if he wasn't so sure himself.

Dante was only seventeen months old and much too young to understand what was happening. To him Bruno was his papá; the man who played with him, the man who sang to him, the man who put him to sleep and tucked him in with a kiss. He didn't question why he wasn't there all the time, and he didn't understand that that wasn't normal. He couldn't know that his Padre was a bad omen and bringer of bad luck, that people knowing his paternity would only cause problems. And there wasn't anything they could do about it, apart from hope no one took any notice of him.

Still, the thought of his familia finding out about his pequeños kept circling his head on repeat. He found himself trying to imagine what his Madre would say if she found out. She would be upset, of course. At not knowing sooner. At what people would think, given the givens. At her hijo's poor choices. He was Bruno and everything he did was a disappointment in some way. Would that transfer to her own nietos, just because they were his?

So, he spent May and most of June in a hyper aware state, watching his familia with an almost obsessive fervour, cataloguing their every facial expression and compulsively knocking on the bamboo of the inner walls every time he saw something that might even possibly suggest that they had a inkling about his niños. When he made his bi-weekly visits to his amante, he usually ended up rambling on about everything he had seen and thought he saw and what he thought it all meant, the words spilling out of him seemingly beyond his control. After a while, he tired himself out with his pacing and Florencia would pull him into her arms, put is head on her rapidly decreasing lap and stroked his hair as she told him about things their hijo had done or what the midwife had said at her last check-up.

Those moments, as he listens to her soft voice and basked in the firm but gentle hand running through his loose curls, were the only times he felt like he could truly breath. He was so stressed and, honestly, the closer and closer his bebe's due date got and the bigger and bigger Reni grew, the more the knot in his stomach clenched and squirmed.

It all came to a head on the thirteenth of July, a little before dinner, when Delores announced to the familia that Señorita Velasco had gone into labour. Bruno choked on his own spit when he heard, sending him into a coughing fit he struggled to stifle in the crook of his arm. Julieta was jumping to cook a little something to send over, like she did for every birth in the village. He watched as she did, trying to control nerves.

He wished he could go to her. He wished he could be there, pacing outside the door like any other Padre-to-be, but he couldn't. He would have to wait here. He would have to wait stay and hope everything went well. He would have to wait here and force himself to eat and sleep and keep himself busy, until he was sure the coast would be clear, and he could meet his new hijo or hija. So, he sketched, and he tried to write, and he did press ups and threw handfuls of salt over his shoulder, muttering assurances to himself. Everything would be fine.

He did manage to catch a few hours, after exhausting himself with a midnight jog through the 'wilderness' that surrounded the village and woke to the sound of his familia sitting down to breakfast. No one mentioned Florencia or the bebe. He didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. It was a thing that drove him up the wall by the time lunch had almost rolled round. Then, as he was trying to distract himself by convincing his rats to stand on the little stage he had made in a fit of boredom, his sobrina walked into the empty kitchen and tapped on the wall.

"Tio Bruno." Delores spoke softly. "She had the bebe an hour ago, a little girl. Everyone is fine."

His breath was sucked from his lungs, and he leant over, his hands on his knees, his eyes beginning to prickle with tears. They were fine. Everything was fine.

"A bebita." He whispered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping to halt his urge to cry, before suddenly scrambling with the fact that his neice had taken the time to tell him. "I, erm, It's g-good to know my friend is alright. Gracias, Lolo."

With a giggled "de nada", she was gone, leaving him with a red face, struggling with the urge to call her back and ask his niece what exactly she thought she knew. Except, she probably did know, didn't she? She'd probably heard them calling each other mi amor. He had ended spending the day there on occasion, so not all their interaction happened in the dead of night when Delores was safely tucking into bed in her soundproof room. He wasn't exactly subtle with his feelings for Florencia when they were alone. Mierda. As if he didn't have enough to worry about already.

And he still had hours ahead of him before he could go and meet his hija.

The time ticked by at a snail's pace but eventually it was late enough to risk sneaking out. It felt like the first time he had snuck out of the Casita's walls to see her and his hijo. He wondered if Dante was still with Señora Gacia or if the kind older lady had dropped him back already. Wondered if he'd met his hermana yet. Wondered what the toddler had made of the assumedly tiny bebita. He hung about in the street when he arrived, giving the casa a once over and checking the street for unwanted eyes.

When Florencia opened the door for him, her hair was limp and she looked tired, but he thought she'd never looked more beautiful when her face lit up to see him. He felt his own lips stretch to match hers. He slipped in quickly, shutting the door behind him and looking down at the bundle his media naranja was cradling in one arm.

"Delores said she's a girl?" He murmured; his voice soft as he reached out to gently run a finger over the barely-there hair that covered his hija.

She nodded, gesturing to him to take her, which he did happily. Oh, she was perfecta. Tiny and pink and sort of wrinkly in the way newborns tended to be, but so beautiful. As he walked further into the room, and therefore closer to the candles that lit it, he could tell that his hijo's hair was a dark shade of red, similar to her mamá's. He shifted the blanket she was swaddled in, releasing one of her tiny arms. It almost instantly came up under her chin in a little fist. It spasmed slightly as he touched it, her tiny fingers flexing and gasping his finger. His dulce bebita.

Reni had made her way over to sit on the sofa, leaning back into the cushions and closing her eyes.

"Dante?" He asked, taking a seat beside her, careful not to jostle either of his muchachas.

"Asleep," She replied without opening her eyes. "He supposedly had a hard time settling last night and had a very long day with Señora Gacia and her grandchildren. He almost fell face first into his dinner when he got home, he was so tired."

He nodded along. "And you, mi vida? How are you?"

She opened an eye to squint at him, a smile crossing her otherwise tired face.

"I'm okay. Relieved it's over." She gave an exhausted laugh.

"You did so well, mi amor." He leant in, asking for a kiss and she met him halfway. "She's perfecta. Are we still in agreement on a name?"

She nodded, closing her eyes once more. He looked down at his hija, Valeria Sofia Julianna. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. They'd chosen Sofia for Florencia's Madre and Julianna for his hermana. Valeria meant strong, and there was nothing he wished his hija to be more.

"You should go get some rest."

But she shook her head, her face scrunching up as though she was about to cry. "I can't. She'll want a feed in twenty minutes."

He felt his eyes widen and hastened to slide closer to her, shifting Valeria so he could put an arm around her shoulder.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay."

He scrambled for something he could do. Something to make it better. Oh, that was an idea!

"Come on, mi vida." He got a hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet.

He herded her up the stairs and into the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. He placed their bebita down, close to the centre of the bed, so there was no chance of her falling off. He pulled off his ruana, shirt and trousers, slipped into the nightshirt she had gotten him to wear when he was here. Then he was nudging Florencia on to the bed to and manoeuvring himself, so he was sat up against the headboard and she was laying against his chest. Then he reached for Valeria, bringing her over so she was in his arms but cradled to her mamá's chest.

"There." He said once everyone had relaxed. "Now, you rest if you want to, mi amor. I can feed her like this. Erm, if you want."

Maybe this was weird? A burst of nervous energy ran up his spine. Should he have asked her first? But Reni just sighed, her shoulders losing some of their tension, her hands coming up to undo the buttons that closed the front of her nursing nightgown.

"Muchas gracias." She muttered, her voice sounding as if she was already half asleep. "Te amo, mi corazón."

"Yo también te amo, cariña. Just rest. " He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her hair. "I'm here"

Valeria did start to fuss a little while later, but Bruno easily shifted the material away and settled his hija to his amante's breast. Florencia stirred briefly, a hand coming up to stroke their bebita's head, but he thought she dropped back off not long after. It was a little difficult to do the front back up once she was done, but the buttons were big, so it wasn't too fiddly. Then he just laid there, holding his dulce bebita and listening to el amor de su vida breathing. Perfecto.

That lasted about two hours before an unpleasantly familiar smell reached his nose and he knew he would have to move. It took a bit of work, but he manages to do it without waking Florencia. He put that down to how tired she must have been more than any skill on his part. Since the only supplies upstairs were in the nursey, he tiptoed in there, doing his best not to be loud. His hija made little whiny noises as he put her down and began unwrapping her from her warm blanket cocoon.

"Shh shh shh." He hushed her. "Por favor, dulce bebita."

"Papi?" His hijo's voice came from the direction of his bed.

"Hola, hombrecito." He whispered back, turning his head so Dante felt he had his attention. "Try to go back to sleep if you can. It's still night-time."

He had gotten his knew bed last month and had had some trouble staying in it of a night. But since the only place he had gone on his midnight wanderings was the master bedroom to wake up his parents, neither of them had really told him off for it, only repeated the rules and brought him back to bed.

"What doin'?"

"I'm changing your hermana's nappy." He replied, keeping his voice low and slow, hoping to lull him back to sleep. "Then I'm putting her into the crib and going to bed myself. It's sleep time."

"'Er-ma-ma sleep?"

He couldn't help but smile at his garbled attempt to say sister. He finished putting Valeria's clothes back on and wrapped her back up.

"Sí, your hermana is going to sleep. Your mamá is asleep. I'm going to sleep." He repeated, walking across the room to carefully placing his hija down. "And you're going to sleep."

He sat on the edge of his hijo's bed, pulled his blankets up from where they had been kicked off during the night and ran a hand through his hair for a few minutes. He snuggled on his side; a soft toy tucked up under his chin.

"Te amo, mijo. Sweet dreams." He whispered before leaving.

He pulled the door to as gently as he could, his ears pricked for any noise that might mean his niños weren't sleeping. He sighed in relief when he heard none, making his way back to Florencia. He crawled in beside her, feeling the last day catching up with him. He was going to sleep here and stay for the day. He'd try let his amante rest as much as he possibly could and spend some one-on-one time with his hijo, just to make sure he wasn't feeling jealous about the new addition. He knew how it could go sometimes. Isabela had been very jealous of Luísa for a while there after she had been born, and she had been only a little older than Dante was now.

He wasn't surprised to wake to the sound of a bebe crying. He was even a little used to it, even though he didn't sleep over very often. Florencia was already moving, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

"I'll get her." He rolled to his feet, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he went.

His hijo was standing next to the crib, balancing on the balls of his feet so he could see over the sea-green rail cover. He looked up at Bruno, his huge eyes wider than normal, when he walked in. He had his stuffed rabbit under his arm and looked super cute in his little pyjamas.

"Loud, Papi." Dante exclaimed his hands coming up to cover his ears.

"Bebés are like that I'm afraid." He said with a chuckle. "You were loud too. See, she doesn't know any words yet, so all she can do to tell us something's wrong is to cry."

His eyebrows came together in a worried look.

"She needs her nappy changed and then I bet she'll be hungry." He explained, washing away the familiar look; he saw that look to often in the mirror and had no wish to see it reflected back on his hijo's tiny face.

"I hun'ry." He informed him.

"Well, let me get Valeria settled with Mamá and I'll make us up some breakfast."

Dante elected to climb into bed with Florencia when he came to hand over the bebe and after assurance from his amante he left them to it and started making food. A basket of his hermana's cooking, partially empty, was still sitting on the side so he added some of that to Reni's plate. It wouldn't give her any energy and she was surely already healed from the birth thanks to what she had eaten the day before, but it made him feel better. Then he carried all back up to the master bedroom, sitting back down in bed so Dante was situated between them. Valeria was laying bundled up on the bed, facing towards her familia, dozing while they ate and chatted.

They eventually got washed and ready for the day, going downstairs. Bruno spent most of it alternating between holding his hija and sitting on the ground playing with his hombrecito. Florencia mostly sat on the sofa, reading when she didn't have to stop to feed their dulce bebita. He made sure to make lunch and dinner too, even though his amante said he didn't have to. But he wanted to spoil her. He didn't get enough opportunities as it was.

He stayed later than he usually would if he had stayed the night the day before, helping out as best as he could. When he got back to the Casita, he practically collapsed into his hammock with barely a whispered word to the rats that were waiting impatiently for him.

Julieta's voice was the first thing he heard the next day, a certain note to it catching his attention immediately. He got his feet under him and crept closer so he would listen to whatever was happening.

"Are you sure, mi querida?" That was Agustin and he was keeping his voice low, like he didn't want to be overheard.

"Every time I see that little boy, he looks more and more like him. I'm sure." His hermana said. "It's those eyes and his nose. He has mi Papá's nose."

Oh, they were talking about Dante. Oh no.

"Well, do you really think he would have..." His cuñado cleared his throat, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

He had been friendly with his cuñados before he left. Not friends, not really. But definitely friendly. They'd spent a lot of time with each other, living in the same house and all, but he'd never been sure if he was intruding on the friendship the two of them had struck up between them. They were the Madrigals that had married in, that didn't have gifts and they had built a close bond on those facts. He'd never felt quite as welcome. He wondered what Felix and Agustin made of him now.

"They were friends. Mi hermanito's only friend and looking back, I don't know, they were close." She insisted, veering far too close to the truth.

"But then who fathered this new one?" He asked and Bruno held his breath, closed his eyes and crossed his fingers above his head.

"I don't know." She sighed audibly. "He's been gone a long time. Years. She must have found someone else."

He released the breath in one long whoosh. It was something at least. Now he just had to worry about her bringing her suspicions about hi hijo to their madre. Which it didn't seem like she would be doing any time soon, which was a relief. As he listened to her, rifling around his ruana for his pouch of salt, she told her esposo she planned to wait for his hijo's fifth birthday and see if a door appeared for him.

"What if I'm wrong? I don't want to so much fuss and bad feeling over nothing!"

Bruno didn't know what would happen on his niño's fifth birthday. Part of him sort of hoped a door never appeared for Dante, nor Valeria. He didn't want them to have to live with that responsibility from such a young age. He saw how often Luísa was pulled from school for one thing or another. He saw how his Madre's littlest gesture would make Isabela straighten up or move with a gracefulness not expected of her sobrinos or hermanas. He saw how Delores and Pepa struggled and his remembered all too well the fear that came with a gift you couldn't quite control. It would surely be much easier to grow up without all that, to just be children and help those around them in a normal, simple way.

He would just have to wait. Wait and hope.