Chapter 8 - WHAT LEO SAW
For several weeks after the parking-lot incident, Leo watched me differently.
At first, I thought he was impressed.
That worried me.
I did not want the lesson to be that his father had secretly been strong enough to solve everything with force.
One evening, he asked why I had never told him about wrestling.
“Because I thought quitting made me a failure.”
“You quit because you told the truth.”
“I also walked away from something I loved.”
“Was that wrong?”
I looked at the brace beside my chair.
“I don’t know. I spent fifteen years pretending the answer didn’t matter.”
Leo studied the healing skin across his palms.
“Did you want to hurt Trent?”
“Yes.”
He looked up, surprised by the honesty.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because protecting you and punishing him were not the same thing.”
I told him strength was not the moment Trent’s feet left the ground.
Strength was asking to leave before the fight.
Strength was controlling where Trent landed.
Strength was releasing him when the danger stopped.
And strength was admitting that I had ignored signs because I did not want to revisit my own past.
“I should have listened sooner,” I said.
Leo’s eyes filled.
“I should’ve told you.”
“You were the child. I was the parent.”
We sat quietly for a while.
Then he asked whether I could teach him wrestling.
“Not fighting?”
“No. The boring stuff.”
May you like
I smiled.
“The boring stuff is most of it.”
