Chapter 10 - PATRICIA WITHOUT AN AUDIENCE
Before retirement ceremony, Patricia asked to meet.
I expected attack.
Instead:
“I owe you an apology.”
I waited.
“For wine?”
“For more.”
Good.
Then she listed it.
Humiliating me.
Dismissing career.
Encouraging Ethan’s obsession.
Introducing Mercer.
Treating marriage like competition.
Then:
“I thought if Ethan became important enough, James wouldn’t really be gone.”
That hurt.
There was grief underneath everything.
Again:
Not excuse.
But truth.
Patricia spent eighteen years trying to resurrect dead husband through son.
Ethan could never win.
If he succeeded:
James would’ve done better.
If failed:
He dishonored James.
No wonder he was desperate.
Still responsible.
But now I saw architecture.
Then Patricia said:
“I was cruel to you because Hayes respected you.”
“I know.”
“I thought you took something from Ethan.”
“Respect isn’t inherited property.”
“I know that now.”
Then:
“Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
She nodded.
Surprised but accepting.
“Maybe someday?”
“I don’t know.”
Fair.
Then she asked:
“Can I apologize publicly?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you humiliated me publicly?”
She nodded.
I said:
“A public apology would make you feel better. I don’t need another banquet scene.”
That landed.
She accepted.
Then retirement ceremony.
Hayes spoke about service.
Integrity.
Failure.
Responsibility.
Never mentioned investigation.
Appropriate.
Afterward he greeted Patricia.
She cried.
They spoke about James.
Not Ethan.
Not me.
For ten minutes Patricia got to grieve husband as husband.
Maybe she needed that twenty years earlier.
Then Hayes approached me.
“Colonel Walker.”
I blinked.
My promotion had been confirmed weeks earlier.
Still getting used to it.
Patricia heard.
Old version of her might have flinched.
Instead she said:
“Congratulations, Grace.”
I looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Small.
Real.
Then Ethan appeared.
He had been permitted to attend privately under circumstances.
He saw insignia.
Smiled sadly.
“I knew you’d make it.”
I almost said:
You tried to stop me.
Instead:
“I did.”
He nodded.
Then he said:
“I’m proud of you.”
For first time, I believed he meant it without comparison.
May you like
Too late for marriage.
Not too late for him to become better.
