“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 somethingoff 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 beverywrong. 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 sheeven 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.
