Chapter 15: The First Day
The end of August arrived, bringing with it the familiar, crisp edge of impending autumn. It also brought something Matteo had been dreading for weeks: the start of second grade.
Historically, school had been a battleground for Matteo. It was a place where he felt entirely misunderstood, where his emotional outbursts had isolated him from the other children. His first-grade teacher had frequently called Julian’s office, resulting in tense, angry lectures when Julian finally returned home.
The morning of the first day, the tension in the Sterling estate was palpable.
Matteo sat at the kitchen island, pushing a piece of toast around his plate. He was wearing his brand-new uniform, but his face was pale, and his leg was bouncing nervously against the barstool.
Julian, dressed in a casual sweater and slacks, poured a glass of orange juice and slid it across the counter. He didn't offer a hollow pep talk. He didn't tell Matteo to "be brave" or "toughen up," phrases he would have weaponized a few months prior.
"Your stomach feeling a little jumpy today?" Julian asked gently, leaning against the counter.
Matteo nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on his toast. "What if I get mad again? What if the feelings get too big and I throw something?"
Julian reached out, resting his large hand over his son’s small, trembling one. "If the feelings get too big, you remember what we talked about. You take a deep breath, and you tell your teacher you need a minute. You use your words, not your hands."
"What if they don't listen?"
"Then I will," Julian promised firmly. "If you need me, for any reason, the school has my private cell phone number. The one that is always turned on. If you need me to come get you, I will drop whatever I am doing and I will be there in twenty minutes. I promise."
Matteo looked up, his green eyes searching his father’s face. He found no hesitation, no hidden corporate agenda. He found only an ironclad guarantee.
"Okay," Matteo whispered, his leg finally stopping its anxious bouncing.
When they arrived at the prestigious private academy, Julian didn't utilize the drop-off line. He parked the car, grabbed Matteo’s new backpack, and walked his son entirely across the bustling campus, ignoring the surprised stares of the other wealthy parents who were used to seeing the CEO strictly behind the tinted glass of his town car.
They reached the door of the second-grade classroom. The noise of a dozen excited children spilled out into the hallway.
Matteo froze, gripping Julian’s hand tightly. The wall was threatening to rebuild itself.
Julian knelt down, right there in the busy hallway, completely unbothered by the foot traffic around them. He looked Matteo dead in the eye.
"You are safe," Julian said, his voice a low, steady anchor. "You are kind, and you are smart. And no matter what happens in there today, when the bell rings at three o'clock, I am going to be standing right on this exact tile, waiting for you. Got it?"
Matteo took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked at the classroom door, then back at his father. He gave a firm nod. "Got it."
Julian handed him the backpack, offering a warm, reassuring smile. "Go knock 'em dead, buddy."
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Matteo squared his small shoulders, let go of his father's hand, and walked into the classroom.
Julian stood up, lingering in the hallway for a long moment. He didn't feel the frantic urge to check his phone or rush to the office. He felt only a profound, protective pride. He had spent his entire life building a company, but as he watched his son bravely walk into the chaos of a new school year, Julian knew this was his greatest success.
