Chapter 27 - Matthew Learns the Truth About SofiaAt fifteen, Matthew asked to see Sofia’s medical records.
Victor nearly refused.
Hannah stopped him.
“Why?” she asked Matthew.
“I want to know what happened.”
“You know she had cancer.”
“I know the child version.”
Victor sat.
Matthew continued.
“Was she sick before I was born?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know?”
Victor nodded.
“She was diagnosed during pregnancy.”
Matthew went pale.
“What kind?”
“An aggressive lymphoma.”
“Could she have been treated?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she?”
Victor’s voice broke.
“She did.”
“But?”
“She delayed one medication until after you were born.”
Matthew stared.
“Because of me?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“She made a medical choice.”
“Because I was inside her.”
“Yes.”
Matthew stood abruptly.
“So she died because of me.”
“No.”
Victor grabbed his arm.
Matthew pulled away.
“Don’t.”
Hannah stepped between them.
“Matthew.”
He was crying.
“She would be alive.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She delayed treatment!”
“For six weeks,” Victor said.
“Six weeks can matter!”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
Matthew ran.
He did not come home for three hours.
Security knew where he was.
Central Park.
Victor wanted to retrieve him.
Hannah said no.
“He needs space.”
“He is fifteen.”
“He is surrounded by security he thinks he escaped.”
Victor hated it.
But waited.
Matthew came home after dark.
He went directly to Sofia’s studio.
Victor followed slowly.
Matthew stood before her photograph.
“She chose me.”
Victor nodded.
“Yes.”
“That was stupid.”
Victor almost smiled.
“She could be stubborn.”
“I didn’t ask her.”
“No.”
“I didn’t want her to.”
“I know.”
Matthew sank onto the piano bench.
Victor sat beside him.
“For years, I was angry at you.”
Matthew looked over.
“Me?”
“No. At the world.”
Victor touched Sofia’s wedding ring.
“I thought if she had never become pregnant, maybe she would be alive.”
Matthew’s face crumpled.
“You wished I wasn’t born?”
Victor’s eyes filled.
“Sometimes.”
The answer devastated him.
Hannah, standing in the doorway, nearly intervened.
Victor continued quickly.
“And every single time I felt that, I hated myself.”
Matthew stared.
Victor took his hand.
“Grief creates ugly thoughts. They are not the same as truth.”
“Then what is the truth?”
“The truth is that your mother loved you.”
Victor’s voice shook.
“And I am grateful every day that she gave me you.”
Matthew cried.
Victor did too.
They sat at Sofia’s piano.
Finally, Matthew asked:
“Did she know she might die?”
“Yes.”
“Was she scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Then why did she smile in all the pictures?”
Victor laughed through tears.
“Because your mother could be terrified and happy at the same time.”
Matthew looked at Hannah.
“That sounds like Hannah.”
“Unfortunately,” Victor said.
Hannah threw a cushion.
Later, Matthew requested the full medical records.
Hannah reviewed them with him carefully.
No myths.
No martyrdom.
No guilt.
Sofia’s cancer had already been aggressive.
No doctor could say the six-week medication delay caused her death.
Matthew eventually accepted that.
Not completely.
Grief rarely accepts anything completely.
He began playing Sofia’s piano more often.
Not because he owed her.
Because he wanted to know her.
One evening, Hannah heard music from the studio.
Matthew played the old Spanish guitar melody on piano.
Victor stood in the doorway.
Hannah joined him.
“You okay?”
Victor nodded.
“For years, this room felt like a grave.”
“And now?”
May you like
He watched Matthew.
“A bridge.”
