“Busy. This new Denmark project is quite the undertaking.” I could almost envision him sitting at his desk with the organized chaos of his papers and files stacked in front of him as he said, “We’ve been spinning our wheels, and Mike has been a real dick lately.”
Mike was our CEO, and he was tough. He played to win and didn’t accept excuses from anyone, especially from those on his team. The Denmark project was one of our biggest cases yet, and I had no doubt that he was pushing everyone to their limit. “I’m sorry. I know he can be a bit of an asshole.”
“Yeah, but he’s taking things to a whole new level. I don’t know how much more I can take.” Before I could respond, he clipped, “Please tell me your brother is doing better and that you are coming home.”
“Well...”
“Come on, Toni. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”
“He’s making progress.” I went back to stirring my pasta as I told him, "And the doctors are hopeful that he’ll be back on his feet in a couple of weeks."
“A couple of weeks?” he whined. “Are you planning to stay until then?”
“I don’t know. I figure I’ll stay for a couple more days and see how it goes, but I’m not leaving here until I know Weston is going to be okay.”
"I see."
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mark,” I pushed.
"There’s been some talk.”
“What kind of talk?”
“People are starting to wonder where your priorities are.” I could hear the hesitancy in his voice as he explained, “The team really needs you. We've all been swamped with this new project, and I know you’re doing what you can from there, but it’s not the same.”
"I know, Mark. I just... I just can't leave him right now. I can’t."
"Can't he hire a nurse or something?" Mark's voice was sharper now, frustration seeping through. "I mean, this is your job we're talking about. Your life. You can't put everything on hold for this."
"This?" I repeated, my grip tightening on the phone. "Weston's been through a huge ordeal. He’s fighting to be able to walk again. He needs me."
"And your career needs you," Mark countered. "You've worked so hard to get where you are. I would hate to see this whole thing with your brother derail you."
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me. It wasn't that I didn't understand. I knew the stakes when I came here. I knew how hard I had worked and how much I had sacrificed. But when I thought about the look in Weston’s eyes each time I walked into the room, the choice didn't feel like a choice at all.
“I will try to come in for a few hours this week and work out a plan for coming back and forth,” I said finally, trying to strike a balance. "But I can't just leave him. Not yet."
“Okay,” Mark answered with a twinge of defeat in his voice. “But a few hours here and there might not be enough. You’re going to have to make some hard decisions soon.”
“If that time comes, then I’ll make them. But I’m going to do everything I can until then.”
“Good. Things just aren’t the same without you around.” He sounded truly sincere when he said, “I miss you, and I really miss our lunch dates. I haven’t eaten well in weeks.”
“Well, we will rectify that when I come.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Give Weston my regards, and selfishly, I’ll be praying for a quick recovery.”
“Thanks, Mark. I really appreciate you looking out for me.”
“That’s what friends do.”
As I continued preparing dinner, I couldn't help but feel the weight of what Mark had said. I knew it came from a place of friendship. He knew about mine and Weston’s history, and the decision I’d made about the relationship. But there was a tension there, and it stuck with me the rest of the night and into the morning. After a great deal of tossing and turning, I came to the conclusion that I would stay true to my word and help Weston as long as he needed.
I figured that would be anywhere from a few weeks to a couple of months. I went to the hospital the following day with a newfound resolve, so I was a bit surprised when I came up on Preacher talking with Weston’s doctor just in time to hear him ask, “Any idea when he will be able to go home?”