The elevator doors at the end of the corridor slid open. Michael stepped out with Austin beside him.
My oldest son looked like he was about to shatter. His eyes darted frantically around the nurses’ station until they locked on me.
“Where’s Rome?” Austin demanded, his voice high. “Is he okay? Is he going to die?”
“No, sweetheart.” I knelt to his level, gripping his shoulders to steady him. “Rome has a broken arm and a bump on his head. They’re going to keep him overnight just to make sure he’s okay, but he’s going to be fine.”
Austin nodded stiffly, absorbing the information. He took a shallow breath, then looked at me with eyes that were far too old for his face.
“Are we going to lose Dad’s company too?”
I couldn’t answer. The words stuck in my throat, choking me. Because the truth was, I didn’t know. In six days—no, five now, since tomorrow would be spent at the hospital with Rome—I might lose everything. I might fail in the last task he’d entrusted to me.
Michael must have seen the way I flinched, because he quickly took Austin’s hand. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you go sit with Rome for a bit? The nurse said it’s okay. I need to talk to your mom for a minute.”
Once Austin disappeared into Rome’s room, Michael took my arm. “You need a minute,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
He guided me to a small chapel at the end of the hall—a quiet, windowless room with a few wooden pews and stained-glass panels lit from behind. It was empty.
The moment the door closed behind us, I broke.
It wasn’t a dignified cry. It was raw and ugly, the kind of sobbing that comes from some place primal, some place that had been holding on for too long. Michael held me while I fell apart, his arms solid and welcomed around my shoulders.
“I can’t do this,” I gasped between sobs, my face buried in his shirt. “I can’t be what everyone needs. Rome got hurt because I wasn’t there looking after him. The company’s going to fail because I can’t be in two places at once. Marco could do both. Why can’t I?”
Michael waited until my breathing steadied, just rubbing my back like he used to when we were kids. Then he pulled back to look me in the eye.
“Marco had you,” he said simply. “You were his partner in everything—the business, the kids, life. You’re trying to do this alone, and that’s not fair to you or to anyone else.”
“What choice do I have?” The question came out bitter with exhaustion.
“We’re all here for you. Shelly and I are here. Patrick’s here. You have people, Theresa. Use them.”
I wiped at my face with the back of my hand, embarrassed by the breakdown but feeling strangely lighter. “I should get back to Rome.”
“In a minute.” Michael’s voice was gentle but firm. “First, you need to decide what you’re fighting for. Is it the company? Or is it what the company represents?”
“What do you mean?”
“Marco built CarideoTech because he wanted to help people. But he also built it to create something lasting for your family. For the kids.” Michael’s eyes were kind but unflinching. “If saving the company means losing yourself, or losing your connection to the children, what would Marco want you to choose?”
He was right. Sacrificing myself didn’t do anyone any good.
A soft knock on the chapel door interrupted the moment. The nurse poked her head in. “Mrs. Carideo? There’s a gentleman here—Mr. McCrae?”
I hurried back to the room. Patrick stood in the hallway outside Rome’s door, a stuffed otter tucked under one arm and a brown paper bag in the other hand. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping well.
“How is he?” Patrick asked, his voice low.
“Broken arm, possible concussion. They’re keeping him overnight.” I gestured to the otter. “What’s that?”
“Saw it at the gift shop. Thought it might remind him of the beach day.” Patrick smiled slightly, shifting the bag in his hand. “And I brought sandwiches. Figured you wouldn’t have eaten.”
It was such a simple thing. Sandwiches and a stuffed animal. But the thoughtfulness of it—the fact that he’d stopped, thought about what Rome might need, what I might need—nearly undid me again.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Inside the room, Rome was propped up on pillows, his right arm now encased in a bright blue cast. His eyes were heavy-lidded from the pain medication, but he brightened when he saw Patrick.
