The guests left us and, surprisingly, that crowded house began to seem silent and empty.

The year that followed those strange weeks was not an easy one for Luisa, who wandered around sad and dull, alternating long days at work with very long days sheltered in her room. Dolores wasn't as easy to read as Luisa, but her characteristically calm countenance turned serious and hurt. And, Isabela… my poor and rejected sister… the truth is that she didn't seem so bad. Every day she seemed more lively, telling us about her adventures outside the Encanto, the new inventions she had discovered such as the air conditioner or the hair dryer, and how good she felt at home. It could have been just my imagination, but it gave me the feeling that she was closer to Camilo than before, and, truthfully, he seemed to be doing her a lot of good.

For me… that was probably the worst year of my life. Bruno kept his word. He distanced himself and, despite living with me in the same house, he managed to not have to cross paths with me more than to share a few words from time to time. With the rest of the family he continued to relate apparently normally, but, for me, it was clear that he was not being natural; his eyes, his smiles, his toes curling inward… everything told me he wasn't having a good time either.

Every day, the coming and going of the house was the same as always, but I felt more alone than ever.

And so, without joy or pleasure, my eighteenth birthday arrived.

"Mirabú! Ready for your party?"

"Ah, papi… Would it be too terrible if I hid in my closet until my birthday is over?"

"A little early for a midlife crisis, don't you think?"

"It's not that… It's just that… I don't feel like partying."

"Is it because of my tie? I can look for a more festive one."

"It's not your tie, pa."

"And, with whatever it is, do you think a hug from your dad could help?"

"I don't think so, but I want it anyway."

My father, who seemed to know which way the wind was blowing, hugged me for a long time and then gave me a knowing smile.

"I'm going downstairs to celebrate the miracle that blessed my life eighteen years ago. If you want to celebrate with me, you know where to find me."

"Okay, pa, thank you."

"Oh, and, Mirabel," he said once he opened the door. "Don't forget that, on your birthday, you can ask for gifts."

He winked at me and left the nursery with a smile from ear to ear speaking a little louder than usual.

"Hey, Bruno, ready to celebrate the light of our lives?"

"Ah… sure…" I heard Bruno reply in the distance while I imagined the embarrassed look on his face.

Dad could be a little naughty sometimes.

Couldn't be otherwise, I put on the best smile I was able to put on and went down to the party. The truth is, I didn't understand what my father meant about the gifts thing, but I didn't need to ask for anything: I already had everything I could ask for, and what I didn't have, I couldn't ask for it anyway.

I spent the evening watching like a fool how Bruno tried to cheer Luisa up with his nonsense, how he played with the animals that accompanied Antonio, how he nervously scratched his head every time my father passed him, and how, from time to time, when his gaze met mine, he hid looking away.

It was going to be a long day and the only thing I could think about since I got up that morning was that, unlike on my two previous birthdays, Bruno would not sleep with me that night.

"It's getting late," my father said as he energetically bumped his dancing hip against mine. "Have you already thought about what you're going to ask for?"

"Huh? I…"

The only thing I wanted…

"The truth is…"

What I craved with all my might…

"…if I can ask for anything…"

My father was right: if I didn't do it then, when would I?

"I… already know what it is," I answered at last with a newfound determination. "Thank you, papi."

I kissed him on the cheek and ran out of there.

"Are you going to give me my gift?"

Bruno's expression when he saw me appear through our hole after almost a whole year, was priceless.

"Ah… I… I thought the gift was collective."

"I'm not talking about that."

"So, what do you…?"

There was nothing like catching him off guard to make him forget to put up the painful barrier he'd built between us.

"It's my birthday, will you sleep with me like every year?"

"Wha…?!"

"Since you came back, I've slept with you on all my birthdays; if I don't do it in this one… I'm going to feel very lonely."

Okay, maybe I wasn't playing fair, but I'd been waiting a year for a miracle to bring him back to me, and if the miracle didn't just come, I'd go after it.

"I… I don't think it's a good idea," he answered somewhat flushed and clearly nervous as he put his huge hands as a barrier between him and me.

"But you are gonna do it, don't you?"

He was in his pajamas. Who knows how long had he been sleeping out of his room… Probably, so he wouldn't see… my bed.

"Mirabel, you know I'm not…"

"Just sleeping, I promise."

Silence washed over him and the atmosphere began to become tense and twisted. Bruno was torn between what he wanted and what he considered his duty. Maybe with a little push…

"I don't want to end my birthday as alone as I have been this whole year. Please…"

I thought I heard his heart breaking. His gaze turned vibrant and glassy and he bit his lower lip guiltily.

"Just for tonight," he answered then very seriously just before lying down in the hammock as stiff as the handle of one of his brooms.

I leaned against him trying not to fall and closed my eyes to bask in his salty scent.

"Thank you, Bruno: now it feels like a birthday."

Hearing those words, his body finally relaxed, his hand rested chastely on my shoulder, and he gently kissed my head.

"Happy birthday."