On my thirtieth birthday, my mother-in-law raised a toast with the words: «To our silly girl from a poor family who lives off our money», and my husband started laughing loudly at that. Then my father stood up from the table and did something that made my mother-in-law freeze in place…

Mom was already there, talking to the doctor. «The surgery is complex,» the doctor was saying, «but we have a lot of experience with such procedures. The chances are good.»

Mom nodded, clutching her bag tightly. Seeing me, she smiled weakly. «Paula, you look better.

Rested?» «Yes, a bit.» We were allowed to see Dad briefly. He was weak but conscious, recognized Mom, even joked about her worried look.

«Don’t look at me like that, Helen,» he said. «I’m not heading to the other side yet.» Mom smiled through tears.

«Of course not. You’ll be babysitting grandchildren yet.» We spent the whole day at the hospital, returning to the hotel only to eat and rest a bit.

In the evening, we were told Dad was being prepared for surgery and asked to come in the morning. At the hotel, Mom and I couldn’t sleep for a long time, though both understood we needed strength for tomorrow. «Do you think everything will be okay?» I asked, lying in the dark.

«It has to be,» Mom replied firmly, «your father is a strong man.» In the morning, we came to the hospital early. Dad was already being prepared for surgery.

We were allowed to see him for literally a minute before they took him to the operating room. «Don’t worry,» he said, trying to smile. «I’ll be back.»

Mom kissed him. «We’ll be waiting.» They took Dad away, and we were asked to wait in a special room.

The surgery was supposed to last several hours. Time dragged agonizingly slowly. Mom and I sat side by side, hardly talking.

Sometimes one of us went out to buy tea or just walk the corridor to stretch our legs. On the third hour of waiting, Victor entered the room. I looked at my father-in-law in surprise; I didn’t expect to see him here in New York.

«Victor,» I stood up to meet him. «What are you doing here?» «Flew in on the morning flight,» he replied. Wanted to check on Nicholas.

He’s in surgery. Third hour already. My father-in-law nodded.

Professor Levine said the surgery could last up to six hours. That’s normal. He sat next to us, took out a thermos with coffee and sandwiches.

«You probably haven’t had breakfast; eat.» Mom gratefully took a sandwich. «Thank you, Victor; you’re very thoughtful.»

We sat together, waiting for news. Victor talked about similar surgeries done on his acquaintances, about the high success rate. About how quickly people recover after bypass.

In a month or two, Nicholas will be like new, he said confidently. Modern medicine works wonders. His presence strangely calmed me.

He exuded the confidence of a man used to solving problems and taking responsibility. On the fifth hour of surgery, the surgeon entered the room in green scrubs, mask lowered to his neck. His face was serious but not grim.

Relatives of Nicholas? Mom and I jumped up. Yes, that’s us. The surgery went successfully.

We performed triple bypass. The patient is stable; now they’re moving him to ICU. I felt my legs buckle from relief.

Mom next to me quietly cried. When can we see him? I asked. Not before six hours. He needs to come out of anesthesia.

But I repeat, everything went well; prognosis is favorable. The surgeon left, and we stood, not believing our luck. Victor approached us and unexpectedly hugged both.

See, he said with a smile. I told you everything would be fine. We left the hospital to walk a bit and grab a bite at a nearby cafe.

For the first time in these days, I felt I could breathe freely. Dad would live; everything else was solvable. When we returned to the hospital, we were told Dad had regained consciousness but was very weak.

We were allowed to see him through the ICU glass. He lay surrounded by equipment, with tubes coming out of his chest, IVs and monitors. But his eyes were open, and when he saw us, he smiled weakly.

He’ll recover, Victor said; now I’m sure of it. In the evening, I called Kyle to share the news. Thank God, he exhaled into the phone.

I was so worried; how are you? Fine. Tired, of course, but now the main thing is Dad.

Your father is a strong man; he’ll make it. Yes, I know. We were silent.

Strangely, talking to Kyle on the phone was always hard for me. As if without visual contact, we lost connection. «Paula,» he said finally, «Mom wants to talk to you.

She really regrets what happened.» I sighed. Kyle, now’s not the time for that.

I understand; just passing it on. Okay, I’ll call tomorrow, update on Dad. We said goodbye, and I returned to the hotel room where Mom was already sleeping, exhausted from worries and sleepless nights.

The following days were spent at the hospital. Dad’s condition improved; he was moved from ICU to a regular room. Doctors said recovery was going well, without complications.

Victor came to the hospital every day, brought fruits, juices, talked to doctors; he even hired a caregiver to ease Mom’s and my task. On the fifth day after surgery, when Dad could already sit and walk a bit around the room, I suddenly saw a familiar figure in the hospital corridor: Kyle; he stood by the window, looking at the hospital courtyard, and didn’t notice me. I approached him; Kyle, he turned, and his face lit up with a smile.

«Paula, I didn’t know you were here. And where else should I be? No, I mean at this moment, in this corridor. Got it; how long have you been here? This morning; wanted to check on your father, and… see you.»

I nodded. «Dad’s better; doctors say he might be discharged in a week. That’s great news; can I see him?

He’s having procedures now; maybe later.» We stood in the corridor, not knowing what to talk about next. Strangely, the man I’d lived with for eight years suddenly seemed almost a stranger.

«Paula,» Kyle said, looking into my eyes, «I want to apologize. For everything. For not protecting you from Mom, for laughing at her toast, for being so… blind.»..