Page 2 of Matteo

Guilt hits me. How had it been so long since I was with my family to see what it became? It’s been years since I came home for Christmas or any holiday. Since my patients were so young, I hated leaving them alone on holidays—some of them didn’t have parents who could spend time in the hospital with them.

About eight years ago, I got caught with a patient who wasn’t stable enough for me to leave for longer than a day, let alone the week off I planned. Once I went into the hospital that Christmas Eve and saw the listless, sad faces of my patients and others in the pediatric oncology ward, my conscience wouldn’t let me leave them at Christmas. At the time, I didn’t regret missing out on time with family to be with my patients. Now I wonder what it cost me in my relationships with my brothers.

Rafe’s glance at his watch is only the flick of his eyes. “Go on. Carrie is probably wondering where you are.” I order Rafe. “You too. Leaving your wife alone with a new baby.” I mockingly shake my head at Javi. “You’ll be lucky if she lets you back in.”

“Whatever, she’s going to yank me through the door so fast my head will spin.” Javi is glowing.

After they’re gone, I go onto the massive rooftop deck to look over downtown Dallas. I’m grateful Javi is letting me stay here until I figure out where I want to live. My mother made it clear she wished I was staying with her, not in Javier’s place. I love my mother, but the idea of living with her, even briefly, is not something I could bring myself to do.

Do I want a condo or a house? If I had a house, do I want to fill it with anything? A wife, maybe a couple of kids.

Over the years, my relationships were mainly with nurses and other doctors. They understood I didn’t have regular hours, and making plans often ended with me getting called away. The women were selected because of convenience. We both knew it was nothing more than the need to scratch an itch.

I wasn’t willing to give up time for anything besides my work. A wife meant getting home at a decent hour. A baby meant midnight feedings. A child meant parent-teacher conferences and dance classes or soccer games. If I gave time to them, there wasn’t enough to give to my patients.

Do I want what my brothers have? I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like I know anything right now. Rafe said I didn’t have to know. Except the lack of a plan—a purpose—is fucking with my head. I’m hoping like hell once I create a new purpose, the feeling will come back.

Matteo

Scanning the restaurant, I find Rafe and Javi in the corner of the elegant dining room. The hostess guides me toward them. Javi’s eyes are hopeful. Rafe’s are concerned.

“What do you think?” Javi prompts me the second my ass hits the seat. “You want to take over running the center?”

I shake my head, and his eyes dim. Rafe doesn’t look surprised. “I’m not ready to sit behind a desk. And that’s what running the center would require.”

“But it helped you recognize what you want.” Typical Rafe, it’s not a question.

“Yes. I want to open a clinic like the women’s health center—for everyone. We can do X-rays and fill some prescriptions at no cost. I also want to include mental health so it’s more like a community health center.”

Javi loses his smile. “You’re going into a shitty area, aren’t you?”

“Where else do they need regular health care more? Ninety-five percent of low-income clinics are a revolving door of doctors going in to get their internship out of the way before moving into a practice. Patients do better with regular doctors who give a shit about them, not someone coming in to get their time and get out.”

Rafe sighs. “You’re going to fund it completely and work fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, as penance for leaving oncology.”

His words hit hard because they were exactly what I admitted to myself it would become. The hours were going to be eight to eight, and, of course, we would be open on the weekend for greater availability. It would be my duty.

I must make up for not doing the work of the life I left behind. I’m a billionaire because of my family’s wealth. I didn’t earn that money on my own. Therefore, I needed to pay for it by giving back in other ways. It wasn’t enough to give away what I could—my grandfather restricted what I could donate to charity. He knew I would give it all away if I could. Besides, giving it away was too easy.

“It doesn’t have to become that.” I force the words out.

“No, it doesn’t. You paid every due there could be. It’s okay for you to stop and enjoy life.” Rafe almost sighs the words.

“If I stop, I don’t know if I can get myself to begin again,” I admit.

Amy

The blow sends me off my feet. Pain radiates through my whole body, and I fight not to vomit. I’m not sure if the urge to be sick is because of him hitting me in my stomach or if the pain is that bad. I can’t breathe through the pain, and I’m grateful because if I do, I’m positive I’ll be sick.

“What have I told you? You stupid, fat bitch. Keep the brat quiet. Fucking waking me up and shit.”

Layla screeches in fear. An unintelligible pleading for comfort I can’t give her.

I watch helplessly as he turns on her. No. No. He can hit me all he wants, but not her. She’s only six months old—a baby. Fear sends a shot of adrenaline through me to get to her first. I cover her with my body. “I’m sorry. Please. I’m sorry. I’ll keep her quiet.”

I feel him looming over us.

Please. Just this once, answer a prayer. I’m begging a god I lost belief in decades ago as I clutch Layla to me.

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