Apology

"I'm going for a stroll. Are you coming?"

Rosa's head whipped up from her book. With the variety of rumours that had been circulating in town about her and Miguel, everyone knew that they had vanished on the night of Día de Muertos. But some rumours regarding their fate that night distorted the truth so much that her stomach churned every time she heard a twisted version of reality. Some people had even gone as far as assuming them gone until they'd made their first appearance in town after the celebrations.

Despite knowing that eyes would be fixed on the two of them, Rosa replied, "I'm coming. I'm tired of avoiding people."

On their way through Santa Cecilia, Miguel questioned, "Have you thought about restarting classes with Isabella?"

"I have, but I don't know if our family will approve."

In another life, Miguel would have told her to grow a spine and do it anyway, since it was unlikely that Isabella would accept any pay, but now… He didn't want to keep secrets from the family anymore, and he knew neither did she.

The plaza was unchanged since their otherworldly journey. That wasn't necessarily a great thing though. Miguel scowled at de la Cruz's smiling statue.

"We should find a way to get rid of it," he said.

"I don't even know who built it or who put it here, but let's not worry about it now, okay primo?"

"Yeah…" His eyes fell on the guitar in the false musician's arms. "If only we could have kept Papá Héctor's guitar. It doesn't belong in that mausoleum!"

"Keep your head up, Miguel. No matter how long it takes, we'll have Papá Héctor's guitar and we will manage to make the whole world believe that those are his songs and de la Cruz was just a– you know what."

He sighed, looking older than he was. "So far, not many have shown us support."

"It's only a matter of time. Once Papá Héctor's songbook and other possessions are found by that investigator your father hired, we'll have real proof."

People turned to look at them as they passed, some puzzled, others worried, but Rosa didn't mind, and Miguel didn't either.

Somebody suddenly called them while they rounded a corner.

"Hey Rosa, Miguel!"

She knew that voice.

Oh, no! Why now? Why at all?

"Is that Eduardo Vásquez?" Miguel asked.

"Yes. Don't turn around. Maybe he'll leave us alone."

Eduardo had been bullying them for years because of the music ban. Now, when the ban was no more, Rosa was uncertain what to expect from him.

"Wait!"

He caught up to them.

"If you're here to mock us," Rosa started right when he opened his mouth, "I suggest you turn around and leave."

He didn't look surprised. "I'm not here to do that. I… heard what happened on Día de Muertos."

Seeing they didn't respond, he went on, "I'm… sorry for being rude to you all these years."

The cousins eyed each other sceptically.

"You actually expect us to believe you?" Rosa crossed her arms.

"No, but I wanted you to hear it from me. And I also want you to know that I believe you. About what de la Cruz did, and about Héctor Rivera. I always felt there was something off about de la Cruz, something about him never seemed to fit, but I can't explain what exactly."

That took both Riveras aback. There was earnestness and genuinity in his gaze as well as remorse.

"I'll try helping you to spread the truth, if… you'll accept my aid."

The primos exchanged glances, communicating silently.

"Well, if you truly wish to help us, then that's very gladdening," Miguel smiled.

"We hope this isn't another one of your pranks though," Rosa added with a raised eyebrow. "Your years of bringing us misery can't be undone by a few words."

"I know, I know. That's why I'm trying to prove myself to you."

She was about to wish him good luck, but she bit the inside of her cheek, tugging Miguel along towards their destination, leaving Eduardo in their wake.

Rosa hated that the guilt in her former classmate's eyes saddened her.

Blanca's shop was unchanged, just as they'd anticipated. The bell rang as they entered. The sight of dozens of instruments was still one to behold, to neither's surprise.

"Well, I wasn't sure if I'd ever see you two cross my threshold," Blanca voiced as she rounded the counter and gave them each a hug, her voice just as warm as they recalled it. A shadow of concern crossed her face. "Are you alright? Are the rumours true?"

"More or less," Miguel let her know.

"But we're alright now," Rosa added. She searched the young woman's eyes, but didn't dare inquire if she was on the Riveras' side regarding de la Cruz. "Can we look around?"

Even though it wasn't her first time visiting the instrument shop, the view of so many instruments remained breathtaking.

"Obviously. How's your violin by the way, Rosa?"

"It's great, honestly! It sounds as beautiful as the first day I played it."

Miguel went to the guitar area, and she followed him. He stopped in front of an instrument that seemed to get his attention. His fingers glided over the smooth surface of the warm-coloured alder wood, his eyes shining with yearning. When he pinched the strings, they created delightful sounds that stroked their souls. Rosa's heart ached when seeing him longing so much for what he'd lost. Wrath at their grandmother fogged her mind, but she replaced it with optimistic thoughts.

He tore himself from his dreamy musings. "Abel said something about wanting to play the accordion. We should have asked him to come with us."

Rosa smiled slyly.

"What?"

"I messaged him when we decided to come here. He's on his way."

Miguel smirked. "You've become slickly efficient, haven't you, prima?"

She shrugged, rolling her eyes with a grin. "What can I say, I had a great teacher."

He chuckled.

The bell rang again, and Abel's deep voice filled the air at the entrance as he greeted the owner. In a minute, he was striding towards them.

"Look who's decided to make a change in his life." Miguel's heart was filled with elation as all three of them ambled to the area filled with accordions.

Abel winked. "A much-needed change, I'd say."

When he was in front of the impressive amount of accordions, one more eye-catching than the other, his lips parted in shock and amazement, his eyes glued to the amazing designs.

"Hermano…" Rosa dared, "How long have you wished to play one of these?"

His eyes didn't wander from the accordion he'd picked up, but his voice had the slightest tremble when he recalled, "Five years."

Heavy silence lingered as they pondered the realisation.

"Well, it's getting late," Abel said with a last longing glance at the instrument he'd silently chosen to be his. "It's almost dinner. We should head back home."

That evening, when Elena called the three of them to a talk, the three cousins were uncertain what to expect. But when they noticed her gentle face, they inwardly sighed that they weren't about to be scolded.

"First of all, I want to apologize to you, Miguel. Breaking your guitar… was one of the worst decisions of my life. I know you must have worked very hard to build that, and I am truly sorry for taking it away from you."

Miguel was still as stone, his features shaping into a mask of ice. Elena took his face in her hands, but he stepped away from her. His grandmother sighed. "I wish I could take it back, mijo, and it kills me that I've hurt you this badly."

She turned to her other nietos. "I'm sorry if I hurt you with my strictness about the rules."

After another moment, she dared, her eyes shimmering, "Can any of you forgive me?"

They stared at their grandmother, stunned. They'd never seen her so apologetic; but now, when she was on the verge of spilling tears, it was clear she was genuine.

"Of course, we can, Abuelita!" Abel spoke, reaching out to give her a hug, which she gladly accepted.

Rosa was absently playing with the end of her ponytail, and was avoiding her abuelita's gaze. Meanwhile, Miguel was gazing at the floor. He spoke quietly, "I can't forgive you. Not yet. I'm sorry, it's not that I don't want to, it's just… I can't."

He turned on his heels, even though he was aware of how much he'd hurt his abuela, frowning on the way out to keep his tears at bay.

His departure was like a punch to the gut.

Elena stared at Rosa, but the girl peeked at her brother. He was pleading with her to forgive, knowing how much denial from two grandchildren would hurt Elena, but there was also a hint of understanding in his gaze.

Rosa sighed. She was being pulled by guilt and pity from one side, and by bitterness and sorrow and rage from the other.

"I will forgive you, I just don't know when. You hurt Miguel, and so you hurt me."

Feeling suddenly oppressed by the urge to not be watched so closely, she left the two teary-eyed in her wake, despising herself for twisting the knife in the wound of Elena's already remorseful heart.

"Do you think I was wrong, Mamá? To reject her apology?"

Miguel was looking out the window in his parents' bedroom, the sun setting over Santa Cecilia.

His mother stopped her sewing, lifting her gaze from the garment she was making for her unborn baby and Miguel's future sister. "Mijo, I understand you need time to forgive her, but I hope you know just how much she regrets what she'd done. Your Abuelita understands not only that she broke your instrument, but also that she drove you away. And that eats at her every day."

She came beside her son, kissing his temple. "Don't hold a grudge, mi amor. She loves you more than you realise. She's been trying to accept music into this household more than anyone else."

Miguel sighed, but before he could say anything, Enrique walked into the room, relinquishing his apron.

"Everything alright?" he asked when he noticed his son and wife's solemn faces.

"Sí, Papá," the boy said, but sadness did not leave his eyes.

Enrique joined them.

"Your Mamá and I have been meaning to talk to you, Miguel."

His son glanced questioningly between them before all three sat on the bed, Miguel between his parents.

"We want to apologize for not supporting you all these years," Enrique began, his voice deep with sorrow. "We should have been there for you."

Luisa pulled her son closer. "We should have tried to see you for who you are, mijo. Who you were becoming."

Miguel's eyes were stinging. "Gracias… It means a lot to me to hear you say that."

"We're proud of you, of everything you're doing. Trying to prove Héctor's legacy to the world, helping us to accept music… everything."

He didn't feel ashamed when the tears fell.

I think Miguel would have a hard time forgiving Elena, even though he now knows the importance of family. He loved that guitar with all he was, and the memory of it being shattered right before his eyes is still haunting him.
Oh, and Rosa was immensely hurt that evening too.

My headcanon is that Abel also wanted to play an instrument when he was a teenager, or at least try to play one. He couldn't help but see his friends do it and this wish just popped up in his heart.