Page 102 of Contusion (Heartland Metro Hospital)

Dad throws me a stern look of warning. “What? It’s perfectly natural for your family to worry—“

“No, Dad. It’s not. Things are different now. Everything’s changed.”

Dad shifts in his seat but has the decency not to comment further.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” I say. “I just . . . I have to make my own choices.”

“You always have,” Dad says.

He looks at me but with no remorse. It’s a fact. A simple fact. If he couldn’t tame me before my outlook on life changed, he could never manage it now.

It’s a relief when Dad changes the subject. He and Felipe turn their attention to business. Mom eats dinner, dainty and quiet for the most part.

Pilar can’t stop smiling as she looks between Rory and me. We can’t stop smiling ourselves.

Dad’s passiveness the rest of the evening surprises everyone. Pilar and I half expected he would blow a gasket at my choice in a mate, but he doesn’t. Dad had wanted me to marry an important businessman, lawyer, or politician from Mexico. Someone with influence. Someone who would add a certain type of value to the family that Dad craves. In the end, I think he sees how much I smile around Rory, how he holds me protectively by his side. There’s also not a chance he has forgotten everything Rory did when I was in treatment even though he had absolutely no obligation to help.

Dad walks us to my car and takes Rory’s hand to shake, but then holds it there. “I’ve told my daughter this, so I won’t lie to you,” Dad says. “I don’t approve of this match. I am bitter that my daughter is leaving—”

“That hasn’t been decided—” Rory tries to explain.

“As good as. And despite that, I see Valentina is in relatively good hands. I’m glad she’ll have a doctor—someone who knows what to look out for . . .”

Dad trails off as he chokes on his words. I know what he is asking Rory. He wants him to watch out for recurrence of my cancer. To keep a watchful eye.

“I promise I’ll take good care of her, sir.”

Dad nods. “I’m sure you will,” he says. “The alternative is a hell of a lot of trouble from me, son.”

I bring my hand to my chest at hearing Dad call him ‘son’ even if it was a threat. Dad finally got the son he wanted in Felipe. He hand-picked him himself. But I know, deep down, Dad knows he doesn’t make Pilar happy. And even though Rory is the furthest thing from what he wanted for me, he will be a better son-in-law than Felipe could ever hope to be.

My family,as expected, dragged out the dinner much longer than it needed to be. Pre-dinner drinks, five courses, port and cigars after dinner for the men who went off into Felipe’s study, and endless, mind-numbing conversation. By the time we get home, Rory and I are exhausted. Rory barely brushed his teeth, and his head hit the pillow.

“That was better than I thought,” I say.

“What dinner wereyouat?” Rory’s voice is laced with sarcasm.

“I guess I should say, by my family’s standard, it went better than I thought.”

“They hate me.”

“Not Pilar,” I say with an encouraging smile.

“No, I guess not Pilar, but your Dad—I mean, I’m a doctor. He knows that, right? It’s a noble profession, and no, I won’t be a millionaire, but I will be financially stable. He talked to me like I was a, a, uh—”

“A what?” I ask.

“A chimney sweep,” Rory says, satisfied with his analogy.

“A chimney sweep?” I laugh. “What is this? Oliver Twist?” I lay down next to Rory and take his hand in mine. “Poor little orphan boy is going to be a chimney sweep.”

Rory’s jaw drops, and he tries to break his hand away from mine. Then I realize what I said.

“Rory, no, I—that’s not what—I just meant . . .”

“Yeah, go on, backpedal faster.” Then he bursts out laughing.

“Come here, you.” He grabs me and pulls me closer to him on the bed. “I’m not sensitive about being adopted. You should have seen your face, though.”

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