Remission by Ofelia Martinez

Chapter 16

In The Air

Icalled it. I called it and then some. It was hard not to pay any mind to the rumor mill. Sara was back at work, though only allowed to do paperwork until her arm healed. She kept me in the loop of rumors, whether I wanted her to or not.

It was bad. Really bad. I knew she wouldn’t exaggerate or embellish. Luckily, Hector reverted to distancing himself from me and only approached me about work. It didn’t dissuade the rumors, though. I really did my best to ignore them, but after a few months of nothing changing, I was ready to scream. Or leave.

I couldn’t very well quit and leave my patients, but I could do the next best thing. I asked Mandy to clear my schedule for the next four days, and Dr. Stuart was more than happy to give me a few days off since I almost neverused any of my vacation time.

The East Coast Oncology Research Annual Conference was in two days. I hadn’t initially planned on attending, but it was the perfect reason to get away. I needed distance from the hospital, from the rumors, and most importantly, from him.

I called my assistant.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Mandy?”

“What’s up, Dr. Ramirez?”

“Please don’t kill me,” I said as I winced, even though she couldn’t see me through the phone.

“What did you do now?”

“I want to go to the ECOR conference.”

“I asked you about that months ago,” Mandy whined. “And you said you didn’t have the time.”

“But you just cleared my schedule.”

“I thought you were taking vacation time.”

“Well, I need to get away. Can you try? I know it’s a lot to ask.”

I could hear her breath as she slowly let it out on the other end of the line. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.”

“You are the most amazing assistant,” I said.

“If you want to compliment me, say I’m the most amazing artist.”

“That goes without saying,” I said. “Thank you, Mandy.”

Everything was booked last minute, but my amazing assistant managed to wrangle me late registration and did some sort of voodoo magic, I was sure, to get me a hotel room in the conference hotel that had been booked up for weeks.

I managed to get a window seat when I boarded the flight. I put my earbuds in, turned on soothing music, and leaned back. I wasn’t nervous flying, and the flight would ordinarily put me to sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

The plane hadn’t finished boarding when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Not taken. Go ahead,” I said, assuming they were asking about the seat next to me, but I didn’t open my eyes. When the light tap repeated itself, I opened one eye.

“Mother f—,” I started to say. I pulled my earbuds out. “What are you doing here?”

Hector blinked at me from the seat next to mine. “I’m going to the conference. What are you doing here?”

“I was trying to get away from you,” I joked.

“Great minds?” he offered.

“More like fools seldom differ.”

“Oh, I don’t know. This could be fun.”

“You realize I’ve been trying to get rid of the rumors. When everyone realizes we took the same days off, and if it gets back to anyone we were at the conference together—”

“I know, Carolina. I’ve been keeping my distance—”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

He looked at me, and his brows drew into a frown. “I thought it’s what you wanted.”

“It was—is, but now—”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I can’t blame you for that. I didn’t know I was coming until a few days ago.”

“Let’s make the best of it then, no?”

I nodded.

I could kill Mandy for putting us on the same flight to Boston, though I knew she hadn’t done it on purpose. Or had she? If she had talked to Hector’s assistant to coordinate flights, I was going to have to get a different research assistant.

And yet, as bad an idea as a trip together was, I found myself having to push down a small excitement that was building in my chest.

The first presentationstarted at seven in the morning, so most attendees arrived the night before the conference officially kicked off. Hector and I took a taxi together and were at the hotel by six in the evening.

Once in the elevator, after checking in, Hector asked me to dinner.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Just as colleagues. You once wanted me to be your mentor. You are supposed to mingle at these things. It’s kind of the point.”

“I don’t know.”

“There will be no better time. Away from the hospital—in another city.”

He had a point. To a great extent, I had let the rumors rob me of the one thing I did want from Hector Medina: his brain. Everything went sideways, and the opportunity of a lifetime dangled in front of me like a carrot I knew I would never be able to reach. “All right,” I agreed with reluctance.

We agreed to freshen up after our flight, and I met him at the hotel’s restaurant an hour later.

I looked the menu over and was happy the prices weren’t too outrageous.

“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?” our waiter asked as he approached our table.

“No, thank you,” Hector said. He ordered a glass of red wine, and I didn’t miss his glare over the rim of his glasses when I ordered only water.

After ordering—he steak and greens, and I shrimp pasta—we settled into the evening, more relaxed than I would have imagined.

He smiled at me, encouraging me to lead the conversation. “Why didn’t you correct me whenever I assumed you grew up rich?” I asked.

“Ah. I was wondering when this would come up.”

“Your mother—”

“She didn’t say anything to me, by the way, about what you two spoke about. She wouldn’t do that. That said, I know my mother. I can guess what she had to say to you.”

“Hector, I wasn’t trying to pry into your personal life. I—”

“I know. No need to apologize.” He smiled, and there was nothing but truth in his eyes, so I relaxed a bit. “But to answer your question, I didn’t think it was important.”

“It’s not, but I’ve said things, insensitive things—”

“Don’t worry. I think intent is important.” He grinned, throwing my words back at me.

“I’m afraid my intent wasn’t very virtuous. I was trying to take a jab, and I’m sorry for that. The truth is, even if you had come from money, I shouldn’t have acted that way, regardless.”

“All is forgiven.”

“Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?” I asked. I was enjoying our conversation tonight.

Hector cleared his throat. “I, um—can’t . . . I, uh, have lunch plans.”

I took a sip of my water, wishing it was wine. “Oh?”

“Andrea is in town for work. We agreed to meet over lunch.”

“I see,” I said, but my stomach twisted into knots. “That’s good. Baby steps.” I did my best to smile. Was this him whisking her away like I suggested? If it was, it was a sorry excuse for a romantic trip.

“Yeah. If I’m honest, I’m a little nervous,” he said.

“Has it been that long?”

“I haven’t seen her in over a year.”

I blinked. Over a year? I thought it had been months, not an entire year. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said and was desperate for the conversation to go anywhere else. I didn’t need to hear any details about him and Andrea together. My poor heart couldn’t take it.

Once our dinner arrived, the conversation relaxed into a more leisurely pace, allowing me to take a breath after Hector’s revelation.

“So tell me about home.”

“What about it?”

“Growing up in Oaxaca. What was it like?”

He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. He grabbed for his glass of wine, buying time.

“It’s not something I like thinking about much. My only connection to the city is my mother, and she refuses to leave. It’s a beautiful city, and she loves it. I understand her; her family and friends are all there. But for me—I have only bad memories.”

“Forget I asked.”

“No—it’s okay. Let’s see. My father left us when I was six. Wish he had done it sooner so I wouldn’t have the vague memories I have of him. My mother struggled to support us. She had little help from my grandparents because they weren’t much better off.”

“What did she do?”

“What she knew how to do. She’s a great cook, so she put a few pesos together and started a little food stand. She sold memelas because they were cheap to make. With that, she was able to provide for us. It was a humble start, but I’m glad for it.”

“Why are you glad you grew up like that?”

“I don’t think I’d be the person I am today if I hadn’t. I know I can take myself too seriously at times, and Mom reminds me all the time that I fancy myself perfect.”

“Yeah, she might have mentioned it,” I said with a grin.

“I don’t doubt it. That attitude of mine was probably what you were picking up on when you made those assumptions about me. But if you can imagine, think about what an arrogant bastard I am now. Then imagine how much worse that would be if I had started off in life as you assumed.”

“The monstrosity,” I gasped.

He threw his head back with laughter. “Indeed.”

He was true to his word. The remainder of the meal was very polite, and no lines were crossed. I was pleased to see him not fighting me when I wanted to split the check with him. I wanted no room to interpret this dinner as anything other than a meal between colleagues.

I was taken aback when he exited the elevator on my floor.

“What are you doing? This isn’t your floor.”

“I’m walking you to your room.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. Either he was oblivious to my discomfort or intentionally ignoring it.

I opened the door to my room and turned to stretch my hand out to shake his. He looked at my hand for one beat, then two. He grabbed it, finally, but didn’t let go.

“Carolina—”

“Hector, don’t.”

“I’m trying not to.” He stepped closer to me, my hand still in his.

“You’re not doing a great job at it,” I said, my voice breathy.

“Then you know how much I’m hating this. I hate not being in control.” His voice deepened, and there was a hoarseness to it now.

I tried pulling my hand away from his grasp, but he was too strong. “Just one minute,” he pleaded. “I lose all control with you. Why do you do this to me?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are doing it by existing.”

“We really shouldn’t—” I started to say, but I leaned into his personal space as much as he was invading mine.

“No, we shouldn’t,” he said. He closed the remaining distance between us. His hand came up to the side of my face. He pushed back a strand of my hair and carefully tucked it behind my ear. His hand then lingered on my cheek, his thumb hovering near the corner of my mouth. My chest heaved when he looked at my lips; a hunger burned in his dilated pupils.

This was a moment that could change my life if I let it. It felt very much like the night that I picked him up from the bar, but it couldn’t be more different. He was sober, so there was no questioning what I found in his eyes, or what story his body told me, those muscles taut as he held himself back, his brows knitted together in pain—the pain of restraint.

We stood in the threshold of my hotel room, and he awaited the answer to the question his body was asking. He was charged like a wire, but ever the gentleman, wouldn’t step a foot in my room if I didn’t ask him to.

My body reacted to him too. How could it not? He let go of my hand and brought his second hand to the other side of my face. He was pleading now, and the skin on my arms broke into goosebumps at his touch.

I grabbed his hands and pulled them off my face. “I can’t,” I said panting.

Rejecting him wasn’t what my heart wanted, but like always, my head won over. “I want to. I really want to,” I reassured him as if the reaction in my body hadn’t already told him that. “But I can’t. There’s work to think about. I can be fired if we start anything, but I wouldn’t do that anyway. Not while you’re married, even if you are separated. And then there’s . . .”

“What?” he asked.

“Your wife, Hector. You’re going to see her tomorrow.”

“I know,” he hissed then took a step back.

“You wanted to try with her again, remember?”

His jaw was set now, and a muscle clicked over one side of his jaw. “Damn it, Carolina, I hate myself. I feel like I’m failing.”

“You aren’t failing.”

“I am. I’m failing myself, and I’m failing you. I promise I’ll try harder.”

I wanted to reach out to him, to touch him and reassure him he wasn’t failing. I wanted to ease the look of pain evident on his face, but I could only nod.

“I won’t try to touch you again. I promise.” It was the last thing he said before walking away from me. It was a vow that hurt more deeply than I could have imagined because now I knew.

Hector Medina was a man who kept his vows.