Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 27

Stephanie

T he new semester had started. It was the last thing I needed, with how much I already had on my mind. I didn’t have the headspace to cram endless medical knowledge inside of it.

I had known Vincenzo was in the mafia and had accepted it. I had seen him bleeding, seen his gun, and the warehouse he did his shady business at. But seeing him covered in someone else’s blood made it feel so real. It showed me a different facet of Vincenzo that had been strategically hidden from me, that he had tucked away so I wouldn’t see how dangerous he really was.

He hadn’t mentioned it when we drove home that night, so I didn’t bring it up either. But I wish I had. The questions and what ifs were gnawing away at me.

“I’d like to introduce our next guest speaker, Dr. Gene Malden,” my teacher said, clapping her hands together.

This semester I was taking a general surgery rotation class to learn the basics of surgical principles. Things such as patient evaluation, diagnosis, preoperative care, and postoperative management. I would observe in surgeries and maintain a sterile environment, which I felt I was grossly overqualified for.

I had already done so much of this with Cesare. But, I hadn’t through university, and that was what counted towards the degree.

“This next guy is amazing,” Preston said from beside me.

At this point, I had grown used to him ending up in almost all my classes. He was like a fly buzzing around the surrounding area that wouldn’t leave; always making annoying noises I didn’t want to hear. Fortunately, I had gotten pretty good at tuning him out.

“Uh huh,” I said, keeping my eyes forward.

“Dr. Malden is a transplant surgeon who pioneered a cutting edge medical device for preserving the viability of organs. He has also discovered a breakthrough technique for almost eliminating the chance of organ rejection,” my teacher said. “And one of his many awards includes the Nobel Prize in medicine. Please give him a round of applause!”

The students responded accordingly, our clapping echoing off the lecture hall room.

“Thank you, thank you,” Dr. Malden said.

The charismatic, salt-and-pepper haired doctor smiled as he approached the podium. There was a hum of anticipation in the air. Dr. Malden was more than a surgeon; he was a medical legend.

“Good afternoon, students. I’m honored to be here today to share with you my experiences and my journey as a transplant surgeon. I hope to enlighten your young minds and possibly stir up some passion to follow a similar path,” he said, his voice clear and magnetic. He tapped the tips of his fingers together as he continued, speaking eloquently about the complexity of organ transplantation, the immense satisfaction of saving lives, and the rewarding challenges that came with the job.

Although he only spoke for thirty minutes, it felt like the time flew by faster. His words were magnetic and his stories were enthralling, and I could only hope to have a medical career one tenth as amazing as his was.

“I encourage you to do your best in this class,” he finished. “As I will be selecting a student to watch my surgeries.”

My heart beat increased threefold, and I was glad there were two licensed doctors in the room in case I had a heart attack. A chance to watch him perform surgery? It was a dream.

I glanced around the room and estimated about forty people in the classroom. Normally, I had the top grades in the class, but there were a couple who came close. I scanned the crowd for them and only saw one.

It was possible to achieve this, if he was only choosing on GPA. But he might also look for a “wow” factor. Medical knowledge was the most important, but passion for the field was a close second. This potential golden ticket to witness Dr. Malden in action was no less than the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Can you believe that?” Preston asked as he walked offstage. “That’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I know,” I responded.

I packed up my school supplies, still in shock that we were getting this opportunity. Preston finally left me alone as we walked out of the class, and we went our separate ways.

Vincenzo was busy and wasn’t able to take me to work, so I hopped on the subway and headed towards the warehouse. The entire ride there, my mind was filled with ways I could achieve my goal of being the one he picked.

Cesare was sitting at the desk when I walked into the medical office.

“Cesare,” I said, needing to share the information with someone. “Guess what happened at school today!”

I relayed the day’s events, talking excitedly about Dr. Malden’s speech in my class. My hands went every which way as I talked, hitting a stethoscope and knocking it off the wall.

“Oops,” I said, picking it up off the floor.

“Are you sure you’re not Italian? You talk with your hands more than your mouth,” he muttered, tapping his fingers along the desk. “Yes, I’ve met Dr. Malden; he is one of the most brilliant minds out there. But don’t get too caught up in trying to ‘win,’” he added, narrowing his eyes at me. “We need you here.”

My stomach twisted with disappointment. I couldn’t tell him no, because the mafia paid my $100,000 year tuition, and if they didn’t I might actually have to sell a kidney to afford it. So, I wouldn’t get too attached to the dream.

“You’ve met him?” I asked, trying to hide my disappointment from his disapproval.

“Obviously. We’re both licensed doctors in New York, and attend the same conferences all the time,” Cesare explained, returning his attention to the paperwork on his desk.

I had no idea Cesare was a licensed doctor. I had figured he had gotten his license and hadn’t bothered renewing it after he started working in the mafia. The idea of him in a lab coat, socializing with professional doctors, was odd to me.

“That’s amazing,” I said, thoughts of being handpicked by Dr. Malden still spinning in my head like a whirlwind.

“Tch. The man’s ego could fill Broadway,” he scoffed, not looking up from his paper.

Well, that was disappointing to know. But, with a resume as impressive as his, I could see how his self—pride would be very high.

“A man got shot earlier today. I stabilized him, and he’s in the recovery room right now.” He shooed me off with his hand. “Go check on him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I sighed, walking towards the side room that housed the patient.

As I attended to the patient, I tried to push the dream of watching Dr. Malden do surgery out of my brain. Right now, this was my job, and it was my first priority to work hard here.

“You didn’t tell me how nice this place was,” Jessica said, her eyes growing wide as she looked around our penthouse.

I had meant to invite her over sooner, but things had just been so busy with school and work. And, selfishly, I had wanted to spend my free time with Vincenzo. The high of our relationship hadn’t faded, and every time I was around him, I still got butterflies.

“I could have probably described it in better detail,” I responded with an awkward laugh.

“It feels like I’ve stepped into a painting,” she said, her gaze still wandering. “Or a billionaire’s Instagram photo.”

Jessica continued to walk around, picking up a crystal wine glass from the dining table and inspecting it. I followed her around, watching as she admired the expensive objects.

“Do you just have a thing for attracting rich men?” she teased, tapping me on the shoulder. “First Preston, now Vincenzo.”

“Don’t even compare Preston to him.” I scowled at her, crossing my arms. “He just had his parents’ money. Vincenzo made his own.”

“Ah, a self-made man. Now that’s alluring,” she nodded, setting the crystal down and facing me. She lifted my hand and gently tapped the face of my watch. “He bought you a gift that probably cost a small country’s GDP.”

“This?”

I knew the watch was expensive, but I didn’t think it was that expensive. But Jessica’s dad was a watchmaker, so I was sure she knew more about it than I did.

“How much did it cost?” I asked, glancing down at it.

I choked on my own spit on her response. Vincenzo didn’t need to spend that much money on me; I didn’t think we were even in an official relationship. And he had only known me a few months. I was dizzy and had to hold on to the back of the sofa to keep my balance.

Jessica rushed over, her hand lightly grasping my shoulder. “Are you alright?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

I nodded, taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah,” I managed to say, “Just really surprised.”

Jessica patted my shoulder and chuckled lightly. “Well, at least we know he’s serious about you,” she said, the corners of her mouth curling into an amused smile.

“I can’t believe I bought him $160 cufflinks,” I said, my eyes tearing up with embarrassment.

“Hey, what matters is that he likes them. Anyways,” she said, pulling a wine bottle out of a paper grocery bag. “This looks extremely out of place here.”

It was a cheap bottle of wine from the local supermarket; the kind that gets you drunk without the taste of sophistication. The label was peeling off in places, and it had a screw cap instead of a cork. It looked glaringly at odds with the marble floors, the stately curtains, and the perfect symmetry of Vincenzo’s apartment.

“Eh, it doesn’t matter. It does the job, right?” I said, walking to the kitchen to get the cheese board I had prepared.

“Sometimes I feel like my alcohol tastes haven’t evolved past college,” she said. “Aren’t they supposed to be ‘refined’ now that I’m an adult?”

“Sounds like a lie from the alcohol industry to get you to buy more expensive drinks,” I responded with a laugh, cutting a piece of cheese and popping it into my mouth.

Jessica grinned, nodding at my cynicism as she twisted the cap off with a pop. “You’re probably right,” she admitted, pouring two glasses of the ruby liquid.

We sat down on the expensive leather couch and drank our cheap wine, the laughter and clinking of our glasses echoing off the polished marble floors. Everything in Vincenzo’s apartment was so opulent, from the shiny silverware to the oil paintings that adorned the walls. But even in this extravagant setting, enjoying a night of five-dollar wine with my best friend was inexplicably comforting.

The luxurious void of Vincenzo’s apartment was filled with our laughter, creating an atmosphere of homeliness that had seemed missing. Jessica nudged me playfully, her features softened by the warm lighting. “So, do you think he’s the one?” she asked.

I nearly spit out my wine on the sofa, something that would not be cheap to replace. “Uh...we’ve only been dating a few months. It’s a little too early to ask that, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t tell my best friend we weren’t really dating; I was too far deep into the lie. One day, I would cut ties with the mafia and Vincenzo and I would “break up.” My heart sank a little at the thought.

“Well, I knew Ted was the one like, a month into dating,” she said, taking another sip of wine.

“Not everyone can have that storybook romance, Jess.”

She shrugged noncommittally, “Well, maybe not. But I’m telling you, when you know, you know .”

Every time I was with Vincenzo, a warmth settled over me. A warmth that made everything feel perfect and right in the moment. But was that love? Was it just the thrill of companionship and danger that made my heart race when he was near?

I wasn’t sure.