Page 95 of Heart Strings
Confusion and concern are etched on his face when he realizes we have company.
“Dad, you remember Aidan from the wedding?”
“Mr. Valdez, nice to see you again, sir.”
“Relax, Gus. She’s not pregnant,” my mom says.
He looks to me for explanation and I nod. “I’m not pregnant or eloping, let’s just get that out of the way.”
“I love your daughter very much. I’ll give the three of you some privacy, but I needed to tell you both that myself.”
I can’t stop wringing my hands in my lap. “Mom, Aidan is here to stay. I know it’s hard for you to see me in a relationship, but he’s earned my trust.”
She frowns. “I’m just trying to prevent you from getting hurt.” It looks like she’s glaring at my dad, but I can’t be certain through the small square of the video chat.
“But, Mom, there is no way any of us can prevent that. You act like controlling every detail of my life will somehow keep anything bad from happening, and that’s just impossible. I get it—but I’m trying to learn to let go a little.”
Moisture pools in my eyes and Aidan wraps an arm around my shoulders in support.
“I got some scary news the other day…”
My mom sits up straighter. “When you moved to the other side of the world—”
“Mom, please. Let me finish.”
Although it looks like it pains her, she respects my request.
“The bloodwork at my last appointment came back with some concerning results, so I had a biopsy.” I explain to them the timeline between the annual visit and now, and why I felt I needed to wait for a diagnosis before I said anything. I also told them about the way Aidan surprised me by coming to my sidewhen I needed him most—my mom’s brows pinch together as we recount the story.
My dad wipes a tear away. “I didn’t know—mija, I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” I tell them. “The biopsy results came back today and it’s negative.”
Beside me, Aidan gives me a relieved smile. I’d have lost my mind with anxiety waiting for the results alone.
Worry still creases my mom’s brow. “What was the problem?”
“Stress, my doctor thinks. It tanked my immune system and I’d been brushing off the symptoms of an infection because I just figured stress is a part of being a med student. I’m all right, really; she started me on a course of antibiotics.”
“Do you need anything?” my dad asks. “Can you take a sabbatical? Or a semester off?”
“No, no. I’m going to be just fine. I only need your support, okay?”
This experience has inspired me to recommit myself to my well-being, including regular swims in the heated pool at the gym to manage my stress, and more open communication. Working in medicine will always involve pressure, but I won’t burn myself out before I’ve had a chance to really change lives.
My dad nods, apparently eager to prove himself.
“And, Dad? I apologize for the way I treated you the day after Lark’s wedding. I’d just been blindsided by the news and it brought up all these old feelings that have never been resolved.” I focus solely on him. “You didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.”
He wipes his eyes again. “Every day, I’ve regretted not beingthere for my girls when they needed me. I’m so proud of the woman you are, though I can’t take credit for raising you. That was all your mother.”
My mom raises a hand to cover her mouth.
“Dad, you taught me my work ethic and you provided for us so we could focus on my healing. It’s not easy for me to forgive you for not being there…I don’t hate you. I never did.” I turn to my mom. “And, Mom, sometimes, I’m like you—trying to do it all on my own, all the time—but that’s not healthy for any of us. You’ve always instilled in me the importance of self-care. That’s what I’m working on: being gentler with myself. Communicating what I need. Leaning on others when I need to.”
“You can,” she assures me. “You can tell me. Lean on us.”
“We want to be here for you,” my dad adds.
