The hardness that had formed softened. In that moment, I prayed that my soothing words would continue to work on him years into our relationship.
Rome’s lips pursed together, then he said softly, “But you love photography. And I love that side of you. That creativity to capture a moment. It’s partly why I fell in love with you.”
I clamped down on whatever well of tears wanted to come up at such sentimental words. I refused to break in front of Joe. The pain meds doing a number on my woozy mind didn’t help. I reached out and gestured for Rome to give me his hand.
“I’m not stopping photography, Rome. I’ll still do ad hoc shoots with special clients. I’m just putting my focus on this foundation. I’ll stop building my photography business and build something better instead.” I gestured to the folder. “My heart is in this as much as it is in photography. It’s something I really want to do. Truly.”
I saw Rome’s Adam’s apple rise and fall. “You want this? Really want this?”
I squeezed his hand. “It’s perfect. For me, for us. Think about it: if the foundation is my full-time gig, I can travel with you during spring training or even to whatever city you’re playing in. Where you go, I go.” I looked away for a moment, not entirely sure how to broach the next subject. “This whole thing needs your blessing, though. Because, well, without you…”
Joe jumped in like a lifeguard. “Essentially, your wealth is the lifeblood of the foundation. We’re drafting plans to seek additional funds, but we’d need a sizable contribution for the initial investment.”
Rome snickered and dropped his head down. When he picked it back up to look at Joe, he was all smiles. “Basically, ‘gimme millions,’ right?”
Joe held up his hands again. “Hey, cuz, your words, not mine.” He laughed, then scooted forward to flip through the folder for Rome. “The charter recognizes you as the primary patron of the foundation. At the end of the day, you’re in total control. Alex and I will run everything else. Eventually, we’ll pull in additional help.”
Rome paged through the remainder of the folder. “This is all very well organized. I can see both of your hands in this. You must’ve worked on this for weeks…”
“The clincher,” Joe confessed. “I had the seed of an idea, and Alex and I had time during the game to discuss, then flying back.”
Rome slapped the ottoman. “I knew it! Iknewit! I thought it was weird that Alex was so quick to fly back with you.” Rome spun and looked at me with a smile. “You’re good at keeping secrets.”
“Well, leave it to you trying to throw your career out the window to get it out of me,” I said.
Joe stood and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Speaking of which... I’m calling your agent and canceling whatever idiotmove you decided to make. Family leave gives you up to fourteen days. That’s all you need.” Joe gestured vaguely toward me. “Pretty sure he’s faking his pain, anyway. He’ll be fine by, like, tomorrow or something.”
Oh how I wanted to grab a pillow and launch it at him, if only I could move quickly.
“Anyway,” Joe said, “I’ll leave the folder here. You two feel free to text me any questions that might come up.”
We said our goodbyes and Rome walked Joe out. The pain meds were in full effect by then. A light haze had settled over my vision. The throbbing in my chest became a distant, dull ache. I wanted to suddenly sleep but forced myself to keep my eyes open as Rome walked around and sat beside me again.
“So… you’re not mad?” I asked. “Because I really—”
Rome’s lips pressed into mine. Gentle. Sweet. Compassionate. Our tongues teased only lightly. He had his hand on my face. “I really don’t know what to say,” he said. “Except that I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said. “I think this is going to be good. I’m excited to get started.”
I wanted to analyze the look he gave me. Pride, appreciation, hope. I could get lost in discerning and listing out all the positive things he sent through the aether to me.
But drugs were a hell of a thing and I could barely stay awake. He noticed. Smiled. Kissed me again, then he lowered me on the couch so I could recline. “Stay with me,” I said as I got comfortable. “Hold me.”
Rome wedged the ottoman directly into the corner of the couch so we could lay parallel with each other. He held my gaze as long as I could as I drifted into a wacky but beautiful pain-med dream of Rome.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rome
THEPASSENGERSIDEdoor popped open before I could rush around to do it for Alex. He was already half out of the car as I came to a skidding halt on the sidewalk and berated him for not waiting. He slapped my hand away as he stood upright and pushed the door closed. One week into his recovery and I already was amazed how quickly he could move. But still, his doctors told him to take it easy and I refused to let him do much on his own.
“I’m not a total invalid,” Alex said. “I can at least get out of the car on my own.”
His bruises had mostly gone down. Mine had, too, except for a shade of purple around my eye. The stitches were removed the day before, leaving me with a dark red streak that cut through my brow. Alex commented on it at least once a day.
“Strong enough to hold me upright?” I asked as we walked to the entrance of an apartment building in Revere. The autumn afternoon shone down on us as traffic boomed down the street, hordes of people going about their day. The skyline of Boston hung in the near distance, stoic giants made of steel and glass. Everything was perfectly normal. Like nothing had ever happened.
We paused at the entrance to the apartment building. I found the button next to the right tag and pressed it.
