VALENTINA
Iarrive at my appointment with Dr. Russo by the skin of my teeth. I’m out of breath and rattled, but not every gasp is because of my mad dash through the winding maze of Carlisle’s town center. My mind is still processing this morning’s antics, but for the most part, the electric rush I felt when the handsome stranger shielded me from harm is the cause of my current breathlessness.
When Dr. Russo’s secretary tells me to have a seat, I observe my surroundings as if I’m seeing them for the first time. I wish that were true. The hospital has been a second home to me for the past three months. The antiseptic smell in the air and the muffled shuffle of nurses’ shoes are awfully familiar.
Mercifully, the stranger’s alluring scent is still embedded in my shirt. His warm and comforting fragrance screams of wealth. I bet his cologne isn’t available at a standard department store. It reminds me of cedarwood battered with rain after an impossibly humid day. It’s earthy and rich, but with the sophistication you’d expect a man of great power to wear.
For a moment, the stranger’s cologne drifts me away from where I am. I feel safe surrounded by it. Protected, even.
I hold on to that belief for as long as possible because I’m confident my nightmares are about to return stronger than ever.
Today’s meeting isn’t about meet-cutes or the chance encounters people share over coffee while laughing about how fate brought them together. I’m at the leading oncology hospital for a reason.
My life’s purpose hangs entirely on the outcome of this meeting.
As much as I want to believe in happy endings, right now, all I can do is fight to keep it from disappearing entirely.
When the secretary announces that Dr. Russo is on her way and that I can wait for her in her office, I’m forced back to my fragile reality. I barely register the secretary’s sympathetic glance when I bypass her desk fifteen minutes after our scheduled meeting time.
I’m used to the sympathy and pity stares. They’re everywhere—except in the eyes of the stranger when he peered down at me. His gaze was intense, almost challenging. It made me stand taller and had me desperate to prove that I’m more than the sum of my troubles.
It reminded me of who I am under the weight of worry and exhaustion.
I’d be dishonest if I said I wasn’t praying for another impromptu meeting. The chemistry that blistered between us deserves to be explored. I just need to maneuver through this latest roadblock before I can think about adding another challenge to my life’s plan.
Sunlight streams through the tall windows of Dr. Russo’s office and paints the floor pale gold. After sitting opposite Dr. Russo’s desk, I fidget with a thread in my now-indecent blouse while I wait.
Thankfully, Dr. Russo doesn’t keep me waiting long.
Her expression is unreadable when she enters her office holding a clipboard. Her poker face has always been intense.
“Valentina, I’m so glad you could make it.” Instead of sittingacross from me, she slots her backside onto the desk near my shaky thigh. “I just wish I had better news.”
My heart sinks to my toes.
This is what I’ve been fearing.
“Your mother’s condition has advanced faster than we planned. The therapies we’re offering aren’t enough anymore. She needs specialist treatment, which she can only get with private care. It isn’t something we can provide for her here.”
Numb, I absentmindedly nod as she continues updating me. I hear the words she’s speaking but struggle to process them. They’re too brutal to swallow whole. I need to break them down into manageable pieces before I can consider digesting them.
I always knew this day would come, but nothing could have prepared me for the brutal stab of pain when forced to stare death in the face.
I’m not being facetious when I say losing my mother will destroy me.
My shoulders are hunched and my chin quivers, but I put on a brave front. “How much does the specialist treatment cost?” My shaky words expose my true composure. I’m scarcely holding it together. This can’t be the end. I refuse to accept any outcome that will take my mother away from me.
Dr. Russo pauses before announcing a figure so far from my reach it might as well be a foreign language.
As the walls close in on me, I bite back a sob. Even as I struggle to breathe, clarity still seeps through the cracks of the carnage. “There must be something else we can do. Another trial? Different medication? I can’t just take her home and watch her die.” Tipping my head back, I peer at the ceiling and blink back tears. “I’m not ready. I have no idea how to be.”
“I’m sorry, Valentina. I wish I could offer more, but I can’t. If there were a suitable trial, I would put her name forward, but we’relimited in what we can offer while she’s under the care of the public health system.”
Unable to comprehend what’s happening, I nod in disbelief. We uprooted our lives because Sicily has free healthcare. It was meant to save my mother’s life, not end it faster.
“How can that be?” The question cracks out of my mouth. “We came to Sicily for thefreehealthcare, so how can you deny her the care she requires? I thought you’d look after her here. I gave up everything in the US because I believed the promise offreehealthcare.”
Dr. Russo grips my hand before encouraging eye contact. Her eyes are full of empathy, but that won’t keep my mother alive. I need answers. Solutions. I need a miracle.
