“Leo,” he said. His voice wavered, then steadied. “I need to talk to you.”

Leo looked up, surprised, his eyes darting to me for permission. I gave a microscopic nod.

“For a long time,” Greg said, his voice echoing in the silent room, “I acted like a bully. I thought being a man meant making other people feel small.

I put my hands on you in a way I never should have. I tried to humiliate you.”

He took a breath, his chest shuddering. “And I did it because I was insecure. Because I was jealous of your mother. I spent years insulting her, calling her a desk jockey, because I was too weak to admit she was ten times the soldier — and ten times the person — I could ever be.”

Tears spilled down Chloe’s cheeks, dropping silently onto her plate.