“How is it different?”
“I’m different now. More experienced. And I have the advantage of knowing what he really is now. I’m not starstruck. I’m the star now.”
He smiled weakly. “You are, pero mija, I don’t understand why you would even entertain the idea of talking to him.”
“To be honest, I don’t really understand it myself. He said he had a lot to say to me. I guess part of me still wants an explanation, or at the very least an apology, for what he did.”
The dishes loaded and the kitchen clean, I turned to look at him. He cocked his head to the side, and his eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked. “Curiosity and a desire for vindication?”
“Yes, Dad. I promise I’ll be really careful.”
“Tell him to be careful. I better not lay eyes on him.”
I chuckled. “I’ll warn him, Dad.”
In the morning, I was awakened by a call from Sara.
“Does your husband know you are calling me at all hours of the morning?” I groaned into the phone.
“My husband is sound asleep upstairs. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” I said.
“So I know your dad already laid it on thick, which is why I decided to leave, but, Caro, you can’t be serious.”
“You too?”
“Yes, me too.”
The truth was, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. Something about Hector made me want to trust him all over again. I couldn’t quite put a finger on it. I knew I couldn’t be so stupid as to fall for the same trick twice, but there had been something in his eyes. It didn’t seem like threat.
“Look,” Sara said when I didn’t answer again. “I think, when you saw him, you probably stopped thinking straight. I wanted to talk with you before you saw him.”
“Okay,” I said, sitting up in my bed to fully wake up for this conversation. “Shoot.”
“Think clearly, Carolina. Do you remember everything he did?”
“Of course I remember. It was seven years ago, but it is definitely fresh in my mind. I didn’t get over it quickly.”
“Good. But just in case, let me remind you. First, he tried to seduce you when he was married. Next, he let the entire hospital speak about you without defending you once. And for his grand pièce de résistance, he stole your trial. A trial you had been working on for years. As if that weren’t enough, he took the credit for your trial. He left town, leaving you to deal with the fallout, and Carolina, the rumors, they almost destroyed your career.”
While she finished her rant, I rubbed my temple. She was giving me a headache. “Trust me,” I said. “I haven’t forgotten any of it. Dad already covered this last night but thank you for worrying about me.”
“You are still seeing him, aren’t you?”
“I have to. I can’t explain it, but I have to. I need answers.”
Sara let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine, but please be careful.”
“I will. Promise.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I had to give it to my family. They had really reminded me of my hatred for Hector Medina. My blood was nearly scorching by the time I started to get ready to go see him. He was going to have to hear me out too.
Chapter 23
The Truth
Deciding what to wear to a meeting with my nemesis was no easy task. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression by trying too hard, but I also needed to feel confident. In the end, I selected dark denim jeans, a burnt-orange chunky sweater, and topped the outfit off with knee-high brown boots. I left my long waves loose around my shoulders and took a deep breath in front of the mirror. You got this, Carolina.
Fall had barely begun to turn the city umber, but the chill was already prominent. Hector had coffee waiting on the table by the time I arrived at the café. He wore a thin, grey sweater that clung to every muscle of his torso—not that I noticed—with jeans and white sneakers.
“Carolina,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”
“Dr. Medina,” I said curtly.
“I can get you a different coffee if you’d like. This one is probably cold.”
I’d intentionally shown up twenty minutes late for our meeting. He needed to know who had the upper hand here. I held the cards, and that had to be clear.
“This is fine,” I said, without tasting the coffee.
“You are never late,” he noted.
“I’m never late when it’s something important.” I took a sip and tried to ignore the smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Dr. Medina, I’m a busy woman. You said you have a lot to say to me, so I suggest you get started.” I glared at him.
“Can we start by using first names?”
“No.”
He drew his hands up in defense. “Okay. This will do for now.”
“What do you want? Why are you here?” I shot each question at him rapid-fire.
“I’m here for you.”
I scoffed. Was he trying to pull this same old shit again? He couldn’t be that stupid.
“I am,” he repeated. “I stayed away as long as I could, but I figured it had been long enough.”
“Speak clearly. I don’t have time for games.”
“I’m not trying to play any games. I swear.”
“Then, please, tell me why you are here.”
“I think it’s time you heard my side of the story.”
“Are you talking about what happened when you were last at Heartland Metro?”
He nodded.
“The right to tell your side of the story passed you by nearly seven years ago, Doctor.”
He closed his eyes at my cool tone. “Just as well,” he said. “I’d very much like to tell you what happened from my point of view. I owe you that much.”
“You have no idea exactly how much you owe me.”
Hector leaned back in his chair. He cleaned his glasses once before putting them back on his face and started speaking again.
“I’ll get to it then. I submitted the paper we worked on after the last edits you sent me. At the time, I didn’t realize Chief Stuart had a personal relationship with someone from the editorial staff at the medical journal.”
“That son of a bitch,” I hissed.
Hector nodded again.
“He knew we were submitting the paper soon. He alerted his contact at the journal, and the request to change authorship to me was made without my knowledge.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Hector? That you didn’t want your name listed as PI? Because it doesn’t. You should have requested a correction.”
“I couldn’t. My hands were tied.”
“That’s convenient—”
“Please, Carolina. Hear me out. I think you’ll be glad you did.”
I tried to relax my muscles a bit, but the tense situation made it difficult. “Go on.”
“The night before the article would be uploaded to the journal website, I was paged to the hospital. When I got there, they told me to report to the chief’s office, and he told me what he had done.
“I told him I would request the correction, but he ordered me not to. He had leverage over me at the time, and my hands were tied. Believe me, Carolina. If I could have fought it, I would have. We had a heated conversation, and I gave him an ultimatum. Either the authorship would be corrected, or I would end my contract at Heartland Metro.”
“He told me your contract was over at the conclusion of my trial,” I said.
“It wasn’t. I had an ongoing contract, but I had the prerogative to end it whenever I wanted. It was one of the perks of being in that position.” His ego reared its head.
“Don’t get so cocky, Doctor. Don’t forget that he chose to keep the authorship in your name instead of keeping you.”
“Touché,” he said.
“What I don’t understand is why did he do it?”
“I have my theories, but it’s probably better that you
talk with him directly.”
“Chief Stuart is no longer at Heartland. He retired a couple of years back.”
“Yes, I know. Once he retired, I requested the correction in the journal of medicine.”
“That was you?” I asked, my heart quickening in pace. He had fixed it. All this time, I had no idea why, years later, the journal had reached out to me with the correction. Did Hector think I was going to thank him for doing the very least he could have done?
I shrugged. “But I’d still like to hear your theories about why Dr. Stuart did it.”
“All right. Do you remember when the results first came in? A doctor from Peak View in California was interested in you?”
“Yes. I remember. I turned their offer down.”
“They didn’t pull it?”
“No, why?”
“The chief wasn’t too happy about the attention you were getting. When Peak View expressed interest, the chief perked up. He couldn’t afford to lose you, but he couldn’t afford a hefty competing offer while at the same time offering Dr. Keach the fellowship and an attending position.”
“He was always going to have to make that choice.”
“Yes. But was Heartland’s offer even close to Peak View’s?”
“Initially, it was, but it was conditional on the retirement of an attending who would leave the spot open.”
“Did it change after the article was published?”
“Yes. It went quite a bit down.”
“And I bet you had already turned down all other offers, thinking you had the luxury of staying in your hometown.”
“He was running out the clock,” I said.
“It’s all speculation on my part, but I have a feeling that version of events is pretty close to the truth. The only other thing I could come up with was that his relationship with the Keaches was deeper and more twisted than we knew. He clearly wanted to sabotage your chances.”
“He sabotaged more than just my chances,” I said dryly.
“I’m sure it must have been tough. Carolina, what happened after I left?”
I cupped the mug between my hands, seeking warmth, and narrowed my eyes at him. Here went nothing. “You took my reputation with you,” I said. “It took me a long time to gain back the trust of my colleagues, and it was two years before I could get a doctor to sign on to a grant proposal of mine again.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
“I’m not sure I believe you,” I said.
“You are smart. You shouldn’t believe me. I wouldn’t take my word for it if the situation were reversed.”
He let a long silence pass before he spoke again. “Despite all the damage I did, your second trial was another success. I have to admit, I was surprised by the numbers. It’s rare to see two back-to-back trials both so highly successful.”
“Yeah, well, I had something to prove at that point. You know what the shittiest part of it all is?” I asked him.
“What’s that?”
“You remember that supplemental grant proposal we submitted, to keep following up on the patients from the first trial?”
“Yeah, vaguely.”
“The grant got funded.”
“It did? That’s great! Why is that the shittiest part?”
“Because to the world, it was your trial, but in reality, I had to deal with all the work involved.”
Hector chuckled. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe you’ll let me make it up to you one day.”
I found myself smiling despite myself. That supplemental grant had actually been a lifesaver—a flotation device in a vast and empty ocean. It had kept me occupied, and I got to stay in touch with my patients. The money awarded with the grant kept my foot inside the door at Heartland when all signs pointed to my termination.
“Can you give me time, Carolina?” he asked.
“Time for what?”
“To show you that I’m telling you the truth. That I’ve never lied to you, and I never would.”
I nodded, without permission from my brain.
“You look the same,” he said, changing the subject.
It was a lot to digest, so I didn’t halt the change in the conversation’s direction.
“Wish I could say the same. You look older,” I clipped.
Hector chuckled. “Yeah. I’m an old man. You must forgive me. We old men are stuck in our ways.”
I knew he was eleven years my senior. It was a gap that hadn’t bothered me back when I was hoping for more from him. Dad had been nine years older than my mother when they met, and they were the happiest couple I’d ever known.
“I’m not sure what you are expecting from me, exactly.”
“I expect nothing,” he said. “I only hope for time.”
I was still suspicious, but my walls began to crumble the more he spoke. Everything he said made sense. I’d come into the café ready to tell him off, and yet here I was, doubting everything I believed I knew about him, and what had happened all those years ago.
“Listen, I have some things to get ready and some errands to run.”
“Sure. I don’t know how I feel about everything you’ve said, but I promise to think on it. There are still holes in this story.”
“There are,” he said. “Would you please have dinner with me on Friday? I’d like to fill in those gaps—start earning your trust back.”
“I don’t know, Hector. Don’t you think it’s better to let bygones be bygones?”
“No,” he said. “Not when you don’t have all the information. Just think about it. Here’s my card.”
I looked at the simple white card with his name, email, and phone number. The anger flooded back at the memory of that day when I had called him for an explanation, and his phone had been disconnected.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I said.
“I’ll keep trying.”
Chapter 24
Mentorship
I was picking up my mail when my phone dinged with a message.
Unkown: Have you given any thought to dinner?
Hector. Of course he still had my number. I’d never changed it.
Me: I haven’t decided yet.
Hector: Tell me nothing of what I said brought up more questions. Please let me complete the story.
Me: We’ll see.
He stopped messaging after that. When I got back to my apartment, I scanned through my mail and was surprised to find a hand-written personal letter. My pulse quickened when I saw the name on the upper left corner of the envelope: Andrea Carter.
With trembling hands, I tore open the letter and read, and then read it a second time:
Dear Carolina,
I’m sure you can guess the Andrea writing this letter is also the Andrea who was once married to Hector. I’ve taken my second husband’s last name. I wanted to explain the change.
I know it’s strange to receive a letter from me—I can hardly believe I’m writing it at this very moment, but I’m forcing myself to put this in the mailbox because while I may no longer be in love with Hector Medina, I will always cherish him as the father of our child. I still want his happiness.
Marisela has informed me that he is headed back to Kansas City and we can only assume he is trying to get you back. Please don’t be mad at Marisela. We only want Hector’s happiness, and she has convinced me you are the key.
Can you believe I am trying to wing-man my own ex-husband? I’ll have my head examined about it soon.
Hector and I check in on each other on tough dates. Jake’s birthday, holidays—that kind of thing. We remember our son together and keep the memory of him alive in our hearts. It’s also a time to make sure the other is doing well. The last few times I’ve spoken with Hector on the phone have left me worried about him. He isn’t happy, and now I know that unhappiness has everything to do with the distance and years he’s placed between the two of you.
I know seven years is a long time, and I so hope you haven’t
moved on, because Hector hasn’t. If you love him even a fraction of the way he loves you, then please, give him a chance.
If you do end up together like I’m hoping, I promise to never meddle again. And I sincerely hope you’ll be okay with our check-ins with each other. Please trust they are all about Jake.
From a new friend,
Andrea Carter.
When one door closes, a window opens—somewhere. It may sound contrived and even useless in dire circumstances, but it is also true. I wasn’t lying to that university student at my lecture when I told her that there are great female mentors in the field of medicine, even if they are rare. Extremely rare.
In my case, I had found a unicorn during Hector’s time away.
Dr. Monica Lopez joined Heartland Metro Hospital as the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery a year after Hector’s departure. She was a female chief, which was rare, and Latina, which was even rarer. I had thanked the gods for sending me another mentor even if she was in another department.
Dr. Lopez understood many of the difficulties all women, and women of color especially, face when trying to enter any male-dominated field. She had been instrumental in helping me get back on track when everything had seemed lost.
She was also a no-bullshit kind of gal, so I knew she would have an unbiased opinion. I had always been grateful to her for also advising me on personal matters.
She agreed to chat between surgeries, but only if I brought food to her office, so I stole some of Dad’s leftover chicken mole and rice for lunch.
“Carolina.” Dr. Lopez greeted me from behind her desk as I entered her office. She wore light blue hospital scrubs and still had her scrub cap on. In her mid-fifties, Dr. Lopez was a stunning woman. She was short and curvy in all the right places. Her long, rectangular face was perfectly framed by thick, black curls when they weren’t pinned back under a scrub cap. I only hoped that I aged half as well as she had. “How was your book tour?” she asked.
“It was good—mostly.”
“Uh-oh. I know that look. What happened?”
Remission Page 18