CHAPTER 50

Monday morning greeted me with a surprise as I walked into the clinic. Rachel was waiting in the reception area, her face lit up with a broad smile.

"Doc Ara, I have some amazing news for you!" she said, her excitement almost tangible.

Finally, something good. After months of bad news, I nearly forgot what hope felt like.

Resting my elbow on the reception desk, I leaned in closer. "What's the news, Rachel?"

She held out an envelope, her grin widening. "Look, Doc Ara—RMIT! It just arrived."

My breath caught as I stared at the envelope in her hand, my eyes widening in disbelief. Could it be? Months ago, I applied to the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) for a doctoral program. I hadn't dared to hope this moment would come.

I quickly tore open the envelope and scanned the letter inside. My heart leaped with joy. "Lord, thank you," I whispered, clutching the letter.

Rachel's eyes shimmered with emotion. "I'm going to miss you, Doc Ara."

"Come on, Rachel, it's just three years. I'll be back before you know it." I tried to keep the mood light. "Plus, I can temporarily assign you to another department. Maybe Kuya Drei's? You know, your crush?"

Rachel's cheeks turned pink, but she laughed. "Oh, Doc Ara! He's married, but hey, a girl can still admire from a distance, right?" she teased, then grew serious. "Please don't forget about me. I still want to work with you when you come back. You've been so good to me."

I hugged her, the acceptance letter still in my hand. Rachel felt like a younger sister to me, and leaving her—even just for a while—was bittersweet.

The door opened, startling us both. "Mom, Dad!" I exclaimed as Mommy Gloria and Daddy Ben walked in, surprising me with their visit. "How's Hector doing?" I asked.

A few weeks ago, the hospital discharged Hector, and he had been recuperating at home.

"He's doing well, hija," Mommy Gloria assured me. "We came to invite you to Marco's graduation ceremony."

I couldn't believe Marco had finished kindergarten already. "Really? That's amazing!"

"Hector asked if you could be there," Daddy Ben added softly.

My heart warmed at the thought. Hector's anterograde amnesia had been improving, and he was slowly starting to recognize me more often. Each small step in his recovery felt like a victory, a sign that he might fully remember me someday.

I decided to leave work early to join them. Walking to the parking lot, I noticed the sky darkening with heavy clouds threatening rain. As Mommy Gloria and Daddy Ben got into their car, my thoughts drifted when I saw a butterfly land on the car door.

"Ara, just follow us," Daddy Ben called out, snapping me back to reality.

I nodded and entered my car, following them to Marco's graduation.

***

It was good that the graduation ceremony was held inside an auditorium because the rain poured down all day. Watching the kids receive their diplomas made me feel nostalgic, reminding me of my graduation. The proud smiles of the parents and the children's excitement tugged at my heart.

"Ara, come join Marco and Hector. I'll take a picture of you three," Daddy Ben called, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I joined them in the lobby, waiting for the rain to let up. Marco grabbed my hand as we posed for the photo, and I stood between him and Hector. Although Hector was there, he seemed distant, lost in his world. What was going through his mind?

When the rain finally eased, we hurried to the parking lot. "Ara, could Hector ride with you? We've got someone else joining us, and our car is full," Mommy Gloria asked. I agreed, taking Hector's hand as we walked to my car.

As I started the engine, I noticed Hector humming a familiar tune. I listened closely, a smile forming as I recognized it as the graduation hymn.

"Are you happy for Marco?" I asked, glancing over at him.

"Yes," Hector replied, his voice clear and specific. "When he's happy, I'm happy."

I focused on the road ahead, but my heart swelled with hope. Little by little, Hector's memories seemed to be coming back.

The rain returned with a vengeance, making it nearly impossible to see. Traffic slowed to a crawl, and I lost sight of Mommy Gloria and Daddy Ben's car. Thankfully, the GPS was still on, guiding me to the fast-food restaurant where we'd celebrate.

"That hymn," Hector said suddenly, breaking the silence. "It sounds familiar."

My heart skipped a beat. "What hymn, Hector?"

"The one I was humming. I think... I've hummed it before."

My mind flashed back to my college graduation seven years ago. Could it be? Does he remember everything now?

"Keep humming," I encouraged him, my voice trembling with excitement. Maybe his memories were finally returning, something I had prayed for.

The traffic ahead cleared, allowing me to drive more smoothly. I kept half my focus on the road and the other half on Hector, who continued humming and lightly tapping his head as if trying to solve a puzzle.

Suddenly, Hector stopped humming and glanced in my direction as if he had noticed something. When I followed his gaze, I saw an accident scene in the distance—a car had tumbled over, with smoke still rising in the rainy atmosphere.

Then, out of nowhere, Hector winced in pain, placing his hands on his head. "My head... it hurts," he said, his voice strained.

Fear gripped me. Hector hadn't suffered from occipital neuralgia in a while. What was happening to him now? I reached over, placing my hand on the back of his head to comfort him. "Hang on, Hector. We're going to the hospital."

I tried to stay calm, but my mind was racing. Should I keep driving or pull over? Hector's pain seemed to be getting worse, his cries becoming more desperate.

"My head... I can't take it!" he screamed, his voice full of agony.

Panic surged through me as I tried to focus on the road. I was torn—should I stop to help him or keep driving to the hospital? Before I could decide, a car suddenly swerved into our lane out of nowhere. I tried to steer away, but everything went black.

***

One month later, I stood before Maya's grave, placing a bouquet of chrysanthemums on her tombstone. The weight of my upcoming departure pressed heavily on me. I was flying to Australia tonight to start my doctoral studies, leaving everything behind with a heavy heart.

Tears welled up in my eyes. "Maya, I'm sorry. I failed," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I failed Hector. I failed us."

Back to my unit, I packed my clothes, my movements robotic, my mind numb. The incident with Hector had shattered me more than I wanted to admit. My mother, who had stayed behind while the rest of the family returned to Canada, quietly watched me.

"Ara," Mama said softly, breaking through my thoughts. "You'll start to forget about him once you're there. Time will heal."

I nodded silently, my throat tight with unshed tears. Mama came closer, gently cupping my face in her hands. "We're still here for you, Ara. We still love you. And there's still love in your heart," she said, pulling me into a warm embrace.

I broke down in her arms, the pain of letting go overwhelming me. It hurt—letting go of Hector, abandoning the dreams I had built around him. I loved him so much that he became the center of my world. Now, with him gone, the emptiness felt endless, the grief a constant presence in my life.

"Hector, I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice thick with regret. "I should have known better."