Bruno Madrigal Snippets

Tears

Reader and triplets-40

Isabela/Dolores-11
Reyna/Pedro-10
Luisa-9
Camilo/Mirabel-5

It has been three months since Mirabel's gift ceremony. Three months since my husband disappeared in the middle of the night.

Three months since my heart and soul began to cry out for Bruno.

Alma is starting to give me strange looks. It's like she thinks I am hiding her son from her. I've already told her I don't know where he is.

Pepa has finally stopped storming, but I can tell that she is still upset. She's just forcing her pain down.

Just like me.

I am staring at my reflection, my mind going through that night for the hundredth time.

My reflection stares back at me.

We had the party, and everyone was excited for Mirabel. She was going to get her gift and be the wonderful little girl that she is.

Bruno and I had spent the past week talking about what she could end up getting.

Bruno mentioned her creativity. He thought her gift would be sewing or something to do with crafts. Maybe she would be able to sew clothing and blankets that had magical properties?

I thought she would have some form or empathy or emotional healing. That little girl was very understanding of other people. It was proven with how quiet she is when Dolores is around, and how she'd apologizes when she gets loud.

She was also very caring towards her Tio Bruno when he was having a rough day.

However, she didn't get a gift. I saw the look on Alma's face too. She noticed something with the candle that really worried her.

I was comforting my upset niece while Alma talked to Bruno.

From the angle I was I couldn't see Alma's face, but I could see my husbands. He looked reluctant. I had guessed that she wanted him to have a vision about the magic.

I was proven correct when I woke the next morning and found Bruno missing.

Alma had mentioned that she had asked for a vision, and she wanted to know what he had seen.

I had told her that he might have gone off to figure out the vision before he told her.

He has done that before when he has visions that are confusing, but he always returned once he had an answer.

But as hours became days, and days became weeks, he hadn't come home.

Alma was getting mad, and I was worried. So was the other adults. Most of the kids were confused. Except the twins. They were worried and upset. Reyna had been using her gift outside in order to find her father. She was worried he was in trouble. I had to remind her that Dolores would have said something if he was in trouble.

Pedro doing his best to keep Mirabel and me distracted.

And poor little Mirabel. She is inconsolable. She thinks it's her fault that her tio is gone.

I pulled her close and told her that her tio Bruno loves her so much, and that she had nothing to do with his disappearance. She thinks he left because he didn't like her anymore since she wasn't special like the rest of the family.

This made me want to cry, but I couldn't. I had to be strong for my niece. For my children. For the family. But especially for Bruno.

I can't let them see or hear me falling apart. I can't let them see the pain I was in, the loneliness I feel.

I can't let them see me glaring at my reflection in anger. Questioning why I was so weak. So pathetic. So useless as a wife.

I always helped Bruno with his gift. I was always there for him when he needed me. I was always there to hold him when he had a bad day, or when the darker visions worried and upset him.

But the one time he needed me, I failed him. Granted, I was helping Mirabel who also needed comforting. But her mother and father could have been there for her.

I should have focused on my husband. I knew he was having a vision; I knew that he was probably struggling with whatever he saw.

I hated myself.

I thought to go up to his vision cave, to find the vision. I just couldn't do it. I was too emotionally weak to go up to the last room my husband had been in.

I couldn't even go up the stairs, couldn't even look at them. I wasn't even able to enter the bedroom I had shared with him.

Casita had to move my stuff to the room we had used in his tower when I was too pregnant to handle the stairs.

I could hardly sleep in that room. Too many memories.

Even now, I sometimes wake up, hoping to see him lying beside me. Tears would silently stream down my face. I'd just lay there and stare at the empty spot beside me. Feeling cold as I do.

I tried to go up there stairs many times since the day he left. I felt like I needed something that was up there. Was it answers I was seeking? Closure? To feel his presence for just a moment? I don't know.

I would force myself to climb the staircases. Each step felt like climbing one of the mountains. I'd get partly up there before I collapse in despair.

Things have gotten harder for me since he left. I feel like an outsider. Like I don't belong.

I wanted to cry, but I stopped myself. I don't want her to hear me. I know she has probably heard some of my tears and my failed attempts to reach his vision cave.

Maybe someday I will find the strength. Find the will. Maybe someday I could make it to the vision cave and find out what happened to my husband.

For now though, the tears are all I have.