Chapter 4 #2
Anger stirs beneath the ache. After everything they’ve been through, after all this time together, she deserves better than silence.
Accepting that brings a strange kind of calm.
She stares at the dark ceiling of her room and lets the silence stretch, lets it sit there without filling it in for Brooke the way she always does, making up excuses as to why it may be okay that she’s doing this.
Eventually, her breathing slows. The tightness in her chest eases enough for sleep to take her.
But sleep isn’t restful.
She dreams she’s standing at the end of a dock, water lapping higher and higher around her ankles.
She calls Brooke’s name, but the sound goes nowhere.
When she tries to move, she can’t; her feet are heavy, rooted in place.
By the time the water reaches her chest, her skin has turned cold and rigid.
Similar to the story of the woman from San Blas, trapped by her own devotion, unable to leave the shore, waiting forever for someone who never comes back.
Morning arrives too soon. Valeria drags herself out of bed and makes it to work on muscle memory alone. Her head throbs, her body heavy with exhaustion. She checks her schedule, hoping for a break, but it’s full—every slot. No gaps.
She exhales through her nose and tells herself she’ll be lucky if she gets a minute to eat.
8:00 a.m - Muffin
A nervous pomeranian with a nasty case of kennel cough. Her owner insists she “just swallowed a piece of popcorn wrong,” but the rasping cough and watery eyes tell Valeria another story.
8:30 a.m - Loki
A calico cat with a mysterious limp. Of course, the limp disappears the moment he’s taken out of his carrier. Classic Loki.
9:00 a.m - Beans
A senior beagle here for her annual checkup. She gets extra treats for being “the best girl,” despite drooling all over Valeria’s arm.
9:45 a.m - Daisy
A hyperactive golden retriever who broke her tail . . . again.
10:45 a.m - Noodle
A rescue greyhound with dental issues. Sweet as can be, but refuses to open her mouth unless bribed with peanut butter.
11:45 a.m - Sprinkles
A Persian cat with matted fur and a serious attitude problem. It takes two techs, a towel, and nerves of steel to get through her grooming.
12:30 p.m. - Gus
A bulldog puppy with explosive energy and zero bladder control.
By the time Valeria finishes Gus’s chart, she’s barely sipped her now-cold coffee.
She rubs her eyes, glances at the clock, and takes a deep breath before heading to her next appointment.
The second her eyes land on the name, she feels a spark of excitement.
She doesn’t wait for the vet tech to bring Miso back like usual.
Valeria walks into the exam room and finds Miso’s mom, talking gently, trying to soothe her vocal cat in the carrier.
“She still doesn’t like her carrier, huh?”
The woman looks up and smiles, a big one that makes the two pronounced dimples on her cheeks deepen. “Nah, I don’t think she ever will. Hopefully, I won’t have to put her in here for another year after today.”
“Well . . . ” Valeria says, quickly scanning Miso’s chart for the woman’s name. “Camila, let me take her to the back and get those stitches out so you can take her home.”
Valeria walks toward her and reaches for the carrier, which Camila gently hands over. Miso immediately starts to meow in protest as Valeria takes her from her arms.
“We’ll be right back,” Valeria says softly, trying to reassure her as she carries Miso toward the back room.
Once inside, she carefully sets it down and opens the door. Miso stretches and lets out a low whine, but doesn’t try to run. Valeria examines her stitches, checking for redness, swelling, or discharge. The skin looks healthy. The incision is clean and well-healed.
“These are good to come out,” Valeria says to the tech holding Miso steady. She takes a pair of sterile scissors and forceps, gently lifting a stitch enough to snip it without pulling at the skin.
Miso jerks at the sound, a sharp little meow catching in her throat. Valeria stills her hands immediately and leans closer, murmuring, her voice low and even.
“It’s okay, Miso. This won’t hurt you.”
She waits, fingers resting lightly against Miso’s side, until the tension eases and the cat’s body relaxes again.
She works slowly after that. Lift, snip.
Lift, snip. When the last thread comes free, Valeria runs her fingers gently along the incision, feeling for any gap or raised edge, until she’s satisfied it’s smooth and sealed.
She wipes the area with a mild antiseptic, careful not to irritate the skin, then checks for any residual debris or crusting, but everything looks good. Camila did a great job keeping the site clean.
Valeria scratches gently behind Miso’s ears and watches her stretch and sniff around the room. “All done, sweetheart,” she whispers. “No more stitches.”
She takes Miso from the tech and settles her back into the carrier, making sure she’s comfortable. Miso lets out a small, resigned meow and nuzzles into the soft blanket Camila put inside for her.
Valeria escorts her back to the exam room, where Camila waits. The moment she sees Miso, her face lights up.
“How is she?” she asks, leaning over the exam table.
“All done,” Valeria says with a reassuring smile. “The incision healed perfectly. No signs of infection, and the stitches came out without any problems.”
Camila visibly relaxes, her shoulders dropping.
“Just keep an eye on the site for the next few days. Make sure she doesn’t scratch or lick it. If you notice any redness, swelling, or discharge, give us a call. Otherwise, she should be completely fine.”
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done without all your help.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” Valeria shrugs. “I’m glad Miso’s doing well. I’ll be looking forward to seeing how much she’s grown at her annual next year.”
Camila smiles, a little hesitant. “Well, can I get you a coffee or food? Just saying thank you doesn’t feel like enough.”
“Coffee sounds great, but I’m booked solid today. I was happy to check her out. You don’t owe me anything, but I appreciate the thought.”
This is what solidifies it for Valeria—she knows now that she was right in staying all those nights ago.
She can’t believe she ever let Brooke talk her into thinking she’d done something wrong by helping Miso and Camila.
This is exactly why Valeria became a vet in the first place: to support animals and the people who love them, to reassure pet parents, and to help animals feel safe and better again.
Camila nods, lips curving into a small smile. “I’ll find a way to say thank you,” she says. “Even if it’s not today.”
Valeria laughs, the sound surprising her with how easy it feels. Camila smiles back, adjusts her grip on Miso’s carrier, and gives a small wave before heading out. The door clicks shut behind her, and Valeria exhales. Checks the time, squares her shoulders, and moves on to her next appointment.
By the time she’s done for the day, the clinic has gone quiet. Valeria barely has a moment to sink into her chair before there’s a knock at her door.
“Someone dropped something off for you,” Millie—the front desk assistant—says, stepping inside.
Valeria’s stomach flips. Her pulse kicks up hard and fast, and for half a second, her mind goes straight to Brooke. Hope rushes in before she can stop it. Millie holds out an envelope, and Valeria takes it, fingers already tearing it open before Millie has turned to leave.
But the moment she sees the handwriting, she knows it isn’t from Brooke.
Miso and I couldn’t leave without saying thank you properly. I told you I’d find a way! Anyway, thanks again. Enjoy a cup of coffee on us. - Camila
It’s a fifty-dollar gift card to the little mom-and-pop coffee shop down the street that Valeria absolutely adores.
It isn’t from Brooke, but the gesture is still surprisingly sweet, and it leaves a soft warmth in Valeria’s limbs.
She wishes there were a way to say thank you, but she doubts she’ll see Camila again anytime soon.
That thought proved to be very wrong. Valeria saw Camila at least five times that first month.
The first time Camila brought Miso in, she was in panic and on the verge of tears, because Miso was sticking her tongue out and wouldn’t put it back in. Valeria gently explained to Camila that it was totally normal, and it could mean anything from she’s super relaxed to Miso forgot it was out.
Camila showed up four more times, and each time, she rushed through the clinic doors with Miso tucked into her carrier, stressed and apologizing before she even reached the desk. Every time, Valeria felt a brief flutter in her chest, gone almost as soon as it appeared.
The things Camila showed up worried over always made Valeria giggle a little. Still, her concern over every little thing and how seriously she took making sure Miso was okay was endearing.
Camila always started with an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I’m overreacting, but .
. . ” And Valeria always told her she wasn’t.
She meant it. She didn’t mind at all. It gave her a reason to talk to Camila, to listen to the soft way she spoke to Miso, the way her voice lifted when she said Miso’s name.
It gave Valeria time to notice the small freckle at the corner of Camila’s jaw, the one that only showed when she tilted her head just right.
With every visit, Valeria’s need to get to know this woman only grew.
By her fourth visit that month, the other veterinarians and techs were starting to raise eyebrows.
“She’s in here a lot,” one of them said, not unkindly.
Valeria shrugged, pretending she hadn’t been keeping track of exactly how many days it had been since Camila’s last visit, wondering what she would come in for next.
By the fifth time—when Camila was convinced Miso had worms because she ate a stray feather in the backyard—Valeria scribbled her number on the back of a clinic card and handed it to her.
“Here,” Valeria says. “Text or call anytime, okay? I’d hate for you to keep paying fifty bucks for me to tell you it’s nothing.”
“You probably think I’ve lost my mind,” Camila says, defeated.
“I don’t,” Valeria says. “I think it’s endearing how much you care about her. I think I could save you the gas and the trip if you just text me when you’re worried.”
“You’re going to regret giving me this,” Camila says, holding the card between her index and middle fingers.
“It’ll be fine.” Camila is far from the first client to have her personal number. It’s also something Brooke and Valeria constantly fought about. Brooke always accused her of having no boundaries when it comes to work. Which—fair.
Camila tucks the card into her pocket. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she says, scratching Miso under the chin before setting her back into the carrier.
Two nights later, Valeria’s phone buzzes while she’s halfway through dinner.
Unknown 7:56 p.m.:
Hey, sorry. Miso just sneezed three times in a row. Is that normal?
Valeria smiles before she can help it, but it’s hard not to. She finds Camila extremely charming.
Valeria 7:58 p.m.:
Perfectly normal. Probably dust or a little tickle in her nose.
Camila 7:58 p.m.:
Okay. I figured. Just checking. Promise this is the last time I bug you.
Valeria 7:59 p.m.:
I doubt that
There’s a long pause between messages. Long enough that Valeria starts to worry she overstepped. Of course, she overstepped. They barely know each other, and Camila probably can’t tell she’s joking.
Thankfully, her phone buzzes then.
Camila 8:05 p.m.:
You’re probably right
After that, it becomes routine. Every few days, Camila texts. A question about Miso’s “weird” sleep schedule. Asking if cats can get bored with their toys. A photo of Miso sprawled on the couch, “looking depressed.”
Valeria jokes lightly about Camila being overprotective, but not too much.
They talk a few times about things unrelated to Miso, mostly when Camila asks for Valeria’s breakfast and coffee recommendations.
That’s when Valeria pulls out her Notes app and shares what she considers her prized possession: a ridiculously long list of every coffee shop she’s visited this year.
It takes several thumb scrolls to get through it all, each place carefully rated for coffee quality, atmosphere, service, and pastry selection.
Camila 1:05 p.m.:
What’s this?????????? Stop, I love it. This is impressively nerdy.
Valeria laughs, taking it as a compliment.
It feels good to be making a new friend—it’s been a while.
Brooke was always so weird about Valeria meeting new people, always worrying that they—or Valeria—had some hidden agenda.
Nothing she said could change Brooke’s mind.
In time, she stopped trying and decided that Brooke and the girls were all she needed—and for years, she believed it.
However, being able to do this again feels good.
There’s something freeing about talking to someone new without overthinking, without guilt creeping in whenever her phone buzzes.
Without worrying it will lead to an interrogation from Brooke, which would inevitably turn into an argument.
As far as Valeria can tell, Camila seems grateful to have a friend in town. Maybe Valeria will offer to play tour guide when she has a weekend off. Spending time sightseeing with a friend sounds perfect.
It’s strange how something so small can make life feel a little lighter. Valeria hadn’t realized how much she missed this.