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“We can’t wait long. Mom’s got something on. I can stop by next week.”
I’m torn in two. I don’t want to let Carly go without saying goodbye, but I don’t want to leave Valentina, either.
Valentina hops from the bed and lays her hand on my shoulder. “Carly?” she whispers.
I nod.
“Go,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”
“Give me a minute, Carly.” I put the call on hold. “I’m not leaving you. Not now.”
“Quincy is here. You heard what the doctor said. It may take an hour or more. Go say goodbye to your daughter. I’m a big girl. It’s just an infection. I’ll get a shot of potent medicine, and then I’ll be back.”
I stare at her face, her full lips, and her sad, murky eyes. Rationally, what she says makes sense, but I can’t get myself to tell Carly I’ll be home in thirty minutes.
“Go on,” she urges. “Your daughter is moving out of your house. You’re not going to let her go like this, without even being there.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a second to make my decision before taking back the call. “I’ll be home in thirty minutes.”
“Okay,” Carly says brightly. “I’ll wait for you.”
I press a hard kiss to Valentina’s lips. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I love her, but I swallow the words back just in time. A shiver of shock runs down my spine. What the fuck is wrong with me? The thought tumbled into my mind from nowhere. Habit. It must be habit. Whenever I had to leave Sylvia in a difficult situation, I always needed to reassure her of my feelings. I backtrack to the door and say, “I’ll be back later.”
Her smile is warm and easy. It’s a smile meant to soothe. I escape the feelings crashing down on me, leaving them in the confines of the hospital room as I flee outside.
“Stay with her,” I say to Quincy, “and call me when there’s news. Anything she needs, anything at all, don’t hesitate.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Give me the car keys. I’m going to the house, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He fishes the keys from his pocket and hands them to me.
“Don’t move away from this door. Keep her safe.”
He flicks his jacket aside, showing me the gun that’s tucked in his waistband.
I leave the hospital with mixed feelings. If Sylvia was reasonable, I would’ve asked her to wait, but she’s not, and she’ll be especially difficult where Valentina is concerned.
The traffic is a nightmare. It takes me more than forty-five minutes to get home. Sylvia and Carly are waiting outside next to Sylvia’s overloaded convertible.
“Dad!” Carly runs to me when I get out of the car. “I knew you’d come. Told you, Mom.”
She lets me hug her, a rare occurrence. I look at the boxes and suitcases piled up on the backseat of the Mercedes. “Wow, when did you accumulate all this stuff?”
She jabs me with an elbow in the ribs. “You should know. You paid for it.”
“Can you even wear all of that?”
“It’s not only clothes,” she says indignantly. “There are books, too.”
“What, ten?”
Sylvia walks up to us in a tight-fitting, pink pencil-skirt suit. “We have to go.”
“Carly, if you need anything––”
“I’ll call.”
“No more than an hour on your phone per day and no dates without my permission.”
“Gabriel.” Sylvia gives me a hard look. “I’m her mother. I’m capable of handling these decisions.”
“But we’ll make them together.”
She moves away, doing her best not to appear abrupt in front of Carly. “She’s growing up. Accept it.”
I’m not getting into a fight with Sylvia. Not today. I kiss Carly’s cheek. “I love you, princess. You know that, right?”
She wipes her palm over her cheek. “Yuk, Dad! Since when are you all mushy?”
“Since my baby girl is growing up.” I was going to say leaving, but I don’t want her to feel guilty for spending time with her mom.
“Stop it.” She swats my arm. “You’ll make me cry, and I don’t want my mascara to run.”
“Carly.” Sylvia starts tapping her foot.
The two women make their way to the car and get inside. As the vehicle clears the gates, a feeling of desolation creeps up on me. The house is empty and purposeless. Its framework stands like a big, white elephant behind me. The pool, garden, televisions, everything was for Carly. It’s like a piece of me has left with my daughter.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, drawing my attention back to the present. There’s a text message from Quincy.
Valentina’s in surgery.
17
Valentina
I wake up in a hospital bed without a piece of me. It’s not the end of the world to lose a thumb. Worse things can happen, but I’ll never hold a needle and thread again. To be a veterinary surgeon, you need all your fingers. It happened too quickly for me to process. Twenty minutes after Gabriel left, the doctor returned with the news. The digit they sewed back didn’t take. I had gangrene in my thumb. To stop the infection from spreading, he had to amputate above the knuckle. Fifteen minutes later, I was wheeled into the operating room.
