Tuesday morning began quietly.
I was making toast when Olivia entered the kitchen.
She looked more rested.
Not happy.
Just rested.
She sat down and watched me prepare breakfast.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"I've been thinking."
I placed a plate in front of her.
"About Ethan?"
She nodded.
"I think I need to see him."
"All right."
"Not to argue."
I sat opposite her.
"Then what?"
"To ask him one question."
I waited.
"Whether he believes what his father said."
I looked at her.
"That you don't understand family because I raised you alone?"
She nodded.
I took a sip of coffee.
"That's a question worth asking."
She looked down at her plate.
"I don't want to hear another excuse."
"Then tell him that."
She nodded.
After breakfast, she got ready.
Before leaving, she stopped beside the kitchen counter.
"Do you think I should tell him about your meeting?"
I considered it.
"Only if you want to."
"Would it make a difference?"
"That depends on what kind of difference you're looking for."
She looked confused.
I continued.
"If he respects you only because your mother wears a general's uniform, that doesn't solve anything."
She lowered her eyes.
"I know."
She left shortly afterward.
I spent the morning working from home on a few documents.
My mind wandered more than I liked.
I kept thinking about the difference between the two conversations Richard and I had shared.
At his table, he had spoken as though he had the right to judge my entire life.
In my office, he had struggled to explain himself.
The uniform had changed his tone.
But had it changed his beliefs?
I couldn't know.
And I didn't need to know.
That was his responsibility.
Around lunchtime, Olivia returned.
She placed her handbag on the chair.
I looked up.
"How did it go?"
She took off her coat.
"Not well."
I closed my laptop.
"Tell me."
She sat down.
"Ethan said he didn't agree with his father."
I waited.
"He said he was uncomfortable at dinner."
I nodded.
"Did he explain why he stayed silent?"
She gave a small shake of her head.
"He said he didn't want to make things worse."
I looked at her.
"And what did you tell him?"
"That things were already bad."
She looked toward the window.
"I asked him whether he believed I had a proper family growing up."
I remained quiet.
"He said that wasn't what he meant."
"What did he mean?"
"He said his father has strong opinions about family."
I almost laughed.
But there was nothing funny about it.
Olivia continued.
"He said Richard would eventually get used to me."
I leaned forward.
"Get used to you?"
She nodded.
"That's what he said."
I watched her face.
She seemed less upset than she had been the previous evening.
But something in her expression had become firmer.
"I told him I didn't want to spend the rest of my life trying to earn a place in his family."
I reached across the table.
She took my hand.
"That's a good thing to understand."
She nodded.
Then she asked whether Richard had contacted me.
"No."
"Do you think he will?"
"I don't know."
She stared at the table.
"I think he should apologize to you."
I shook my head slightly.
"He knows what he did."
"But he hasn't apologized properly."
"That's between him and his conscience."
She looked at me.
I continued.
"Don't carry his responsibilities for him."
She was quiet.
Then she gave a small nod.
That afternoon, my phone rang.
It was a number I recognized from the previous meeting.
I answered.
"General Hayes."
A familiar voice came through.
"General, this is Captain Whitmore."
I sat straighter.
"Good afternoon, Captain."
"I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"Go ahead."
There was a pause.
"I wanted to speak about Friday evening."
I waited.
"I've been thinking about what happened."
I looked at the papers on my desk.
"All right."
He cleared his throat.
"I was out of line."
I didn't answer.
"I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did."
"No, you shouldn't."
He continued.
"I also shouldn't have made comments about your daughter."
That caught my attention.
I leaned back.
"She heard every word."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
He was quiet.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
"I spoke to Ethan."
I waited.
"He told me that Olivia was deeply upset."
I looked out the window.
"She was."
"I thought I was being protective of my family."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Protecting your family doesn't require humiliating someone else's."
"I know that now."
I wasn't convinced.
But I let him continue.
"I would like to apologize to Olivia too."
I looked at my desk.
"That is something you should discuss with her."
"Would you tell her?"
"I'll tell her you called."
He thanked me.
Then the conversation ended.
I sat quietly for a moment.
I wasn't sure whether the call represented genuine regret.
It might have.
People sometimes recognized their mistakes only after seeing the consequences.
But I had learned not to confuse an apology with a change.
I went into the kitchen.
Olivia was reading something on her phone.
"Richard called."
She looked up immediately.
"What did he want?"
"He said he was sorry for his behavior."
Her expression remained guarded.
"Did he say anything else?"
"He wants to apologize to you."
She looked away.
I waited.
Finally, she spoke.
"I don't know if I want to hear it."
"That's your choice."
She nodded.
Then she put the phone down.
"I need some time."
I touched her shoulder.
"Take it."
That evening, she sat beside me in the living room.
We watched television without paying much attention.
At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder.
I placed my arm around her.
Neither of us said anything.
For once, silence felt peaceful.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: When the Whitmores Finally Asked to Meet Again, My Daughter Had to Decide Whether an Apology Could Repair What Had Been Broken
I Thought Meeting My Daughter’s Future In-Laws Would Be a Simple Family Dinner Until I Saw the Way Her Fiancé’s Father Looked at Me
Part 10 of 12
