When everyone left for lunch, he sat opposite me and apologized without trying to explain away what he had done.

“I diminished your work,” he said.

“I treated your independence as something I could permit or withdraw.

My father’s interference doesn’t excuse that.”

I had imagined hearing those words many times.

In my imagination I felt triumphant.

In reality I felt tired, and a little sad for the people we had been.

“Thank you,” I said.