Because 4 years was 4 years, and Deshawn was not a stranger or an acquaintance. He was the closest thing to a brother that Marcus had in this city. Why didn't you just come to me and tell me your son needed help? Desawn's face changed. Something in it broke open.
Because you're barely keeping it together yourself. Because I watched you lose those contracts and I watched you sitting with those numbers on Saturday mornings and I couldn't. His voice broke. I couldn't add my weight to yours. Man, I couldn't be one more problem.
Marcus looked at him. He thought about what it cost a man to decide that the person he trusted most couldn't bear his weight. He thought about what it said that Deshawn had made that calculation. Not about Desawn's character, about what Marcus had let Dawn believe about the limits of what was between them. "How much does your son need?" Marcus said.
Desawn stared at him. "Marcus, how much?" "A number." "Not small, not impossible." "Okay," Marcus said. Marcus, I just told you. I I know what you told me. Marcus looked at him.
We're not done talking about it. We're nowhere near done talking about it. What you did hurt this company and it hurt me and we're going to deal with all of it. But right now, I'm asking about your son. He held Desawn's gaze because Jaylen has nothing to do with what you did.
He just needs to see a specialist and that happens first. Desawn's face did something that Marcus had never seen it do in 4 years. His eyes filled. He turned away, hands pressed to his face, and Marcus stood there and let him have 30 seconds without looking. Then Marcus said, "We'll deal with the rest Monday.
Come in when you're ready." He walked back to the main section of the property. Olivia was where he'd left her. And she looked at his face as he came back, and she said nothing, just handed him his coffee, which she'd held for him, kept warm, and stood beside him for a moment. Okay, she said. No, he said honestly, but it will be.
She stood there with him, not trying to fix it, not strategizing, just present, which was what he needed. After a minute, he said. He has a sick kid. I know, she said softly. Not the details, but I could see.
He should have come to me. He loves you, she said simply. That's why he didn't. The people who love you are always the ones most afraid to need too much from you. Marcus looked at her.
That landed somewhere deep and true. "Are you talking about him?" he said. A pause. "Yes," she said. And then partially, the moment held between them like something being carefully transferred from one hand to another.
Then her phone rang. She looked at it and something crossed her face. Quick. "Dark, it's Renick," she said. "Don't, Marcus said." She looked at him.