After Nika’s words, silence fell over the café. Outside, the rain struck the windows even more strongly.
“Who sent it?” I asked.
Nika put the phone on the table.
“The hospital’s internal audit group. The file contains all the records of your treatment, including who changed their timestamps in the system.”
Alvaro turned pale.
“That is impossible.”
“It is possible,” Nika said. “And the director has had it for several hours already.”
Alvaro looked at Raul.
“I will file a lawsuit against them.”
Raul slowly closed the folder.
“I no longer advise you to take this path.”
“What does ‘no longer advise’ mean?”
“It means that you are no longer under my protection. I am ending my representation today.”
Alvaro stood up from his chair. On his face was the expression of a person whom no one was obeying for the first time.
“Are you all against me?”
I picked up the bag. The bronze clasp pressed into my fingers.
“No. It is just that this time you cannot force anyone to cover the truth for you.”
That night I returned home alone. My sister Irina covered me with a warm blanket on the sofa and put tea in the kitchen for me.
“Do you want to stay?” she asked me.
“Yes.”
It was the first simple answer I had given without connection to Alvaro Montes.
The next day a supervisory meeting was held at the hospital. I was not there. Nika told me that Alvaro initially denied everything, and then they played the recording.
His own voice sounded in the hall.
“I cannot come now. The doctors know what they are doing.”
Alvaro sat silently for a long time.
“Did I say this?” he asked.
No one answered him.
“You all knew that this was necessary for my career,” he continued. “Family problems would damage my candidacy.”
The chief doctor answered calmly:
“Your wife was not a family problem. She was a patient whose life you took responsibility for when you registered as her contact person.”
That same day Alvaro was temporarily removed from operations. A professional investigation began. Then, with the help of my lawyer, the recordings were also handed over to the police. I did not start shouting against him in court. I simply signed every document and told the truth.
Alvaro’s lawyer offered me a settlement.
“The house and half of the savings, if you withdraw the claims.”
“I will not withdraw the claims.”
“Do you want revenge?”
“No. I want responsibility.”
The court confirmed the divorce. I received the property portion I had requested. Alvaro’s right to practice medicine was finally suspended, because it was established that he had not only hidden the messages from me, but had also changed several periods of time in the electronic records so that his absence would resemble an ordinary shift.
When I learned this, I did not feel victory.
Only exhaustion.
Because a person whom you loved can no longer escape from his own words.
Several days after the hearing, I went to our old apartment to take my things. Alvaro no longer lived there. A photograph from our wedding hung on the bedroom wall, but the frame was empty. He had taken the photograph. Only a white trace of dust remained.
On the kitchen shelf I found my bag. That dark-red bag whose bronze clasp tinkled at every step during the hospital days. I picked it up and looked at it for a long time.
Once I thought that this sound was telling me that someone was still waiting for me.
Now I knew that it was counting my steps.
Three months later I moved to another city. I started working as a quality-management specialist at a small clinic. In the mornings I walked to work. On the way I stopped at a small bakery where there was a smell of cinnamon and the seller already knew me.
“Unsweetened coffee again today?” she asked me.
“A little honey today,” I answered.
My body slowly grew stronger. The first time I climbed the stairs, I did not stop halfway. The first time I looked at my face in the mirror, I no longer saw a sick woman.
Irina’s seven-year-old daughter, Nora, often came to me. One evening she put a sheet of paper on the table.
“This is you,” she told me.
In the drawing there was a woman holding a red bag in her hand. A large sun was drawn beside her.
“Why do I have such a big bag?” I smiled.
“Because you carry inside everything you need.”
“And the sun?”
“Because now it is coming into your home.”
I attached the drawing to the refrigerator.
Several weeks later I received a message from Alvaro. I no longer had the number saved, but I recognized his manner of writing.
“I want you to speak to me at least once. I can explain everything. I still love you.”
I looked at the screen for a long time.
Then I wrote:
“I have already heard your explanation. It was recorded in your voice.”
The second message came immediately.
“You can start everything again from the beginning.”
I went to the window. The first snow was beginning in the city.
“I have already started again. Without you.”
After this I blocked the number.
At the end of winter I attached a small wooden shelf to the door of my new apartment. I placed the red bag on it. The bronze clasp was still broken, but I did not replace it. Every morning when leaving the house I stroked the bag and heard its tinkling.
This sound was no longer the sound of abandonment.
It was the sound of my return.
And this time I opened the door myself.
Missed the beginning?
