Chapter 12: One in Two Thousand

I read the number a fourth time.

It did not change.

"It must be a mistake," I said. "There was a vasectomy. I had a follow-up test, and it was clear."

"Samples can be mixed up," the woman said, kindly.

"That's why we ran yours twice, with a fresh swab. The result is the same."

I looked at Valeria.

She was staring at the sheet of paper and she did not blink.

"It's not possible," she said.

"I would have said that too."

The woman folded her hands.

"But there is a very rare event. A vasectomy can reverse itself on its own, sometimes years afterward. The cut ends of the tube grow back together."

"How rare?" I said.

"About one in two thousand."

Somewhere in my head, a postcard from the urology clinic dropped into a kitchen bin.

I had thrown away two of them without once turning one over.

I laughed.

It was a short, dry, awful sound, and I could not stop it.

Valeria's head came up.

"What is funny?"

"Nothing. It's just that I never went back for the check-up."

"What check-up?"

"They send a card every autumn. I assumed it was a sales call."

"You didn't go back?" Her voice rose. "You had it done, and you never went back?"

"The first test was clear!"

"It was one test!"

We were both on our feet, and we had both forgotten there was a stranger in the room.

The woman cleared her throat and began, very gently, to gather her papers.

Behind me a chair scraped.

Iván had not left.

Keep reading free with an account. Start You Chose Another, Now Forget Me from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.