CHAPTER 29

Eric still managed to come home to the country after his father's funeral. Despite our challenges in the past few weeks, we restored everything to how it was. He dropped me off at the hospital every morning like he always did. I kissed him on the lips before getting out of the car.

As I walked down the hallway to my clinic, someone greeted me.

"Good morning, doctor. Finally, you're here," it was Maya, and I stopped walking.

My eyes shifted behind her, and my heart started beating fast. She was with Hector and their son; they rose from their seats in the waiting area.

I had spent days meditating to prepare for my reaction if I ever saw him again. But I couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion-an unexpected longing. My chest tightened as I fought to stay composed.

I quickly turned my eyes back to Maya. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine. By the way, Marco, my husband, is with me," she said, but my attention was still on Hector.

He had gained weight, but his handsome face hadn't changed. His long, unkempt hair made me wish I could tell him to get a haircut. I missed his clean-cut look. I missed his face. I missed seeing him again.

"Good morning, doctor," Hector said. I forced a smile. The voice that once whispered, "I love you," now felt distant and unfamiliar. "We've been here since last week, but you weren't around. I'm glad we caught you today."

His smile was the same as before: easy-going and carefree. Meanwhile, I smiled back at him, feeling intensely bitter because I longed for those smiles.

"I'm sorry, I had a lot to take care of last week," I lied.

I couldn't look at him for long. What if he suddenly made a scene here and said he knew me? My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm. I had rehearsed this moment for days. I just laughed it off inside because thoughts ran through my mind.

I welcomed them into my clinic, trying to remain professional. I needed the courage to confront him without letting my emotions show. I still had a piece of myself left to continue what I had to do. I didn't think about where all this would lead.

"When did you first start feeling this headache?" I asked Hector. I was sitting in my pink comfy chair, facing the three of them on the long sofa.

"I don't know, doctor," he replied, his lower eyelids puffing while his eyebrows tensed. "I've felt this for a long time, on and off sometimes."

My forehead creases, remembering the accident he was involved in seven years ago. How did he survive that? And who did the police find that they thought was Hector? His speech pattern was typical like he used to be, but there was something different about him now, something I couldn't quite explain.

Maya interjected, "As I mentioned, doctor, he had a head injury when I first found him."

Hector's eyebrows furrowed as he turned to glare at Maya. His face suddenly turned serious. Maya raised her left palm and gestured for him to calm down.

"Have you seen a brain specialist? A neurologist?" I asked.

Hector responded, "Not yet."

I became more worried. "After all this time, why haven't you had it checked?"

Maya interjected again, "Didn't I tell you, Papa, that we should get it checked?"

"Shut up!" Hector's sudden response surprised me. His voice changed tone. Their son grabbed Maya's arm. "She's talking to me and not you."

We fell silent for a moment. Hector looked down and ruffled his hair, clearly annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Ma," he said, hugging Maya, who stared into a blank space. She must have grown accustomed to his behavior. His apology, so familiar, made my chest ache. I took a deep breath and looked down, pretending to write in my journal.

"You need a CT scan, Marco," I said. "Your condition is dangerous; you might have head trauma or a concussion."

"Is that why I can't remember?"

"Yes, so I can determine what type of amnesia you have, according to Maya's story."

"Story?" His eyebrows furrowed again as he turned to Maya. "Ma! Didn't I tell you not to talk too much? You're so stubborn."

Maya replied, "Pa! I had to."

"I need to know, Marco," I added, keeping my tone firm. "I need to understand the root cause of your condition, and I think it's organic amnesia."

"I get it! I get it. Will I get better now that you know?" Hector interrupted.

I was shocked as he raised his voice at me now. He was getting irritable.

"Pa! What's wrong with you? I'm sorry, doctor," Maya interjected.

"Too much explanation."

He looked away and ruffled his hair again. I wanted to cry before them; he was no longer the Hector I knew. He had changed a lot. But I had told myself I needed to be strong. I was worried about his condition and needed to know everything.

"You can't undergo treatment without examining your head first," I explained firmly. "That's my concern right now. You haven't visited any doctor to check for too long."

Then he suddenly stood up, which startled me. "Okay," he said briefly.

I hadn't finished explaining, but he grabbed his scared son and left the room.

"Pa! What's wrong with you? Don't be like that," Maya said, standing to follow him.

I couldn't move from my chair but quickly turned to Maya. "Maya, can we talk for a moment, please?"

She stopped at the door, turned back to me, and walked to the sofa to sit down again.

"Does Marco have a job?" I asked.

"I won't let him work. Back in Bulacan, I had a small grocery store that we used to run. I let him manage it when I had side jobs. But because of his irritability, he often got into fights, so I closed it. We decided to move to Manila. His condition has been challenging for our lives, and my son's studies have suffered as well."

I didn't know how to respond to her story. Despite feeling hurt, I sympathized with Maya's situation. I was interested in determining the severity of Hector's memory loss and the potential impact on other "memory receptors" in his brain. His mannerisms were still there, and his speech was relatively okay.

The primary assistance I needed to provide was for his headaches. If it continued, it would be detrimental to his health.

"For now, while we haven't had him examined, it would be best to keep him away from any tasks that require concentration. This also affects his decision-making. He requires clarification when attempting to understand things. Did he drink or smoke?"

"He drinks sometimes, but I've never seen him smoke. Again, I'm sorry for my husband's behavior, doctor. He's always like that," she said quietly. I nodded; he had never smoked before.

Only his episodic memory suffered; his procedural memory remained intact. What puzzled me was his fluctuating temperament. What area of his head was experiencing this change?

I walked over to my desk, took out a box, and handed it to Maya. "This is Tylenol; it's better for his headaches."

I couldn't deny that what was happening to him now still affected me.

"Thank you, doctor," she said, placing the box in her shoulder bag. "Will my husband need surgery?"

"We'll hear from the neurologist. Tell him to stay in the lobby. I'll ask the radiologist to get a CT scan done as soon as possible."

She nodded with a broad smile. She said goodbye and left my clinic.

I called the radiologist on duty, and it was simple to get an appointment because they knew me. Next, I called the neurosurgeon. Thankfully, both conversations went smoothly.

"Are you ready for the CT scan?" When I saw them sitting in the lobby's waiting area, I asked Hector. He was calm, as if nothing had happened. "Come on, Marco, they're waiting for you."

I accompanied them to the radiology department. I stayed silent, thinking this was the only thing I could do for Hector now. This was an impossible leap of fate, but it was all we had left.

"Let me introduce Dr. Jeric Veloso, our neurosurgeon," I said to Maya as we waited in the radiology department. "This is Marco de Leon, the patient I mentioned to you, doctor."

"Doc, will my headache get better?" Hector asked immediately. I saw the determination in his eyes-the same determination I used to know.

"Yes, there's a good chance." Hector smiled and nodded. "But we need to find out where the problem is. I need your cooperation, hijo."

A radiologist appeared nearby. "Mr. Marco de Leon, you can come in now."

Dr. Jeric excused himself, and I accompanied Hector inside the CT scan room. At the same time, Maya and their son stayed in the waiting area.

Accidentally, I touched his arm, and memories of us flooded back. I remembered how those arms used to embrace me, making me feel safe. Then reality hit me, realizing that those embraces were meant for someone else now.

They placed Hector on the patient's table and lit it. They calibrated the detection ring, and the radiologist said, "Doctor, you can step out now."

I nodded and walked toward the door.

"Doctor," Hector called. I paused before turning back to him. "I'm sorry," he said.

He smiled at me, and I almost froze, but I quickly nodded and turned away. Once outside the room, I told Maya I had to leave and hurried back to my clinic. I rushed straight to the bathroom in my office, shut the door, and leaned against the water closet.

He had apologized, and I remembered the last day we fought. I smiled but then suddenly burst into tears.

"Hector, I forgive you. I'm sorry, too."