Back at Amelia's mansion, Patrick notices her distracted behavior and growing stress. Their interactions become increasingly strained as Patrick criticizes the shallow nature of her work environment. Amelia, frustrated, accuses him of not understanding the stakes of her world.
Patrick Walsh sat at the long marble kitchen island in Amelia's sprawling Silicon Valley mansion, his calloused hands wrapped around a ceramic coffee mug. Despite the warmth of the drink, he felt distinctly out of place. The sleek, modern kitchen filled with state-of-the-art appliances and minimalist decor was a far cry from the worn, cozy familiarity of his own home back in Rustwood.
Amelia moved about the space with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to multitasking. She was on the phone, her voice clipped as she discussed updates with a member of her legal team. Occasionally, she'd jot something down on a tablet resting on the counter, barely sparing a glance in Patrick's direction.
"No, Victor doesn't get another extension," Amelia said, her tone sharp. "If he can't meet the terms, that's on him. We're done accommodating his delays."
Patrick watched her, his brows knitting together. She sounded more stressed than he'd ever heard her, and yet she carried herself as if she were perfectly in control. It was a mask he recognized from years of watching her climb her way to the top.
When she ended the call, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her ponytail coming slightly undone. For a moment, the polished veneer slipped, and Patrick caught a glimpse of the young girl who used to struggle with homework at the kitchen table while he tinkered with engines.
"You alright?" he asked gruffly, breaking the silence.
Amelia glanced at him, surprised by the question. "Fine," she said curtly. "Just another day in paradise."
Patrick frowned. "Doesn't sound like paradise to me."
She let out a short laugh, the sound devoid of humor. "Well, Dad, welcome to my world. It's not exactly the laid-back life you enjoy in Rustwood."
"Laid-back?" he repeated, his voice tinged with irritation. "That's what you think it is?"
Amelia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I didn't mean it like that. I just" She paused, searching for the right words. "This is different. The stakes are higher."
"Higher than keeping food on the table and a roof over your head?" Patrick countered, his tone sharper than he intended.
Amelia's eyes narrowed. "You have no idea what it's like to run a company like this. Every decision I make affects thousands of people, employees, investors, customers. If I screw up, it's not just my life on the line."
"And you think I don't know responsibility?" Patrick shot back. "I've been running my own business for decades. Maybe it's not as big or shiny as yours, but it's kept me and plenty of other folks afloat."
"I'm not saying what you do isn't important," Amelia said, her voice rising. "But this is different. It's...bigger."
Patrick stood, setting his mug down with more force than necessary. "You always think bigger means better. But sometimes it just means something more complicated. And more lonely."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Amelia looked away, her jaw tightening. Patrick regretted the comment as soon as it left his mouth, but he didn't know how to take it back.
The tension was broken by the sound of Amelia's assistant, Claire, entering the room. She paused, sensing the charged atmosphere, but quickly recovered. "Ms. Walsh, the investors' call is scheduled in ten minutes. Do you need me to prepare anything else?"
Amelia straightened, her professional mask sliding firmly back into place. "No, I've got it. Thank you, Claire."
As Claire left, Amelia turned back to Patrick. "I don't have time for this right now."
Patrick nodded stiffly. "Sure. Wouldn't want to get in the way."
He turned and walked out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty hallways of the mansion. Amelia watched him go, her chest tight with frustration and something else she couldn't quite name. She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the meeting ahead. But as she prepared, Patrick's words lingered, refusing to be ignored.