Chapter 14 - The Father Tyler Chose to ConfrontTyler was allowed to visit Richard three days later.
I asked whether he was sure.
“No.”
At least he was consistent.
“Then why go?”
“Because I’ve spent seventeen years imagining things I should say to him.”
“And now?”
“I don’t want to imagine anymore.”
He asked me to come.
Not into the room.
Just to the courthouse.
I did.
Richard appeared behind thick glass wearing county-issued clothes.
I watched from a distance before stepping away.
Even through glass, he looked like Richard.
Controlled.
Straight-backed.
Almost offended by his surroundings.
Tyler picked up the phone.
Richard did too.
Their conversation lasted twenty-four minutes.
Tyler told me about it afterward.
“He asked about Mason first.”
“What did you say?”
“That Mason was safe.”
“What about you?”
Tyler smiled without humor.
“He didn’t ask.”
That hurt me more than it seemed to hurt Tyler.
“What did you ask him?”
“Whether he knew the steering could fail.”
“And?”
“He said yes.”
No denial anymore.
“Did he know you were taking the car?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“Why give you the keys?”
“He said he believed the mechanic exaggerated.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s what he says.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Partly.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad always believed rules were for people who couldn’t manage risk themselves.”
That fit.
“He didn’t expect Evan to die.”
“No.”
“He just thought he knew better.”
“Yes.”
“What about afterward?”
Tyler looked away.
“That’s where I stopped understanding him.”
Richard had admitted he panicked.
The company was already under financial pressure.
Evan’s copies of bribery records could have destroyed everything.
The unsafe car made it worse.
Richard convinced himself he was protecting employees.
Diane.
Tyler.
The company.
The family name.
“So he blamed a nineteen-year-old kid?”
“Yes.”
Tyler’s voice went flat.
“He said I was already blaming myself.”
I felt anger blaze through me.
“What?”
“He said changing the report didn’t create my guilt.”
“It reinforced it.”
“I told him that.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
Tyler sat down beside me on the courthouse bench.
“For years, I wanted Dad to tell me he was sorry.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“And?”
“It didn’t do what I thought.”
“What did you think it would do?”
“Give me my life back.”
I took his hand.
“Nothing can give you seventeen years back.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying—”
He almost smiled.
“Sorry.”
I smiled too.
Small progress.
“What did you say before you left?”
Tyler stared down the hallway.
“I told him I loved him.”
That surprised me.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And I told him I wouldn’t protect him.”
That sounded exactly right.
“He cried.”
“Richard?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never seen him cry.”
“Neither had I.”
Tyler rubbed his thumb across my hand.
“I used to think loving someone meant protecting them from consequences.”
I looked at him.
“That sounds familiar.”
“I know.”
He caught himself.
“Sorry.”
I laughed.
This time he did too.
Then he grew serious.
“I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“With anyone?”
“With you. Mason. Mom. Myself.”
“Good.”
He released my hand gently.
That was another change.
He didn’t cling to affection as proof everything was repaired.
He allowed moments to be moments.
That evening, our first couples counseling session happened by video.
It was uncomfortable.
Excellent.
Terrible.
Necessary.
The therapist’s name was Dr. Naomi Foster.
She didn’t let Tyler turn every sentence into an apology.
She didn’t let me use anger to avoid sadness.
At one point she asked me, “What are you most afraid of?”
“That there are more secrets.”
Tyler went still.
Dr. Foster turned to him.
“Are there?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Do you believe him?”
I wanted to say yes.
I couldn’t.
“Not completely.”
Tyler looked hurt.
Dr. Foster didn’t rescue him.
“Tyler, what do you feel hearing that?”
“Like I earned it.”
She shook her head.
“That is judgment. Not feeling.”
He struggled.
“Scared.”
“Of?”
“That she’ll never believe me again.”
Then Dr. Foster asked Tyler the same question.
“What are you most afraid of?”
He answered immediately.
“That Jenna will stay because she feels responsible for saving me.”
I stared at him.
I hadn’t considered that.
Dr. Foster asked, “Do you?”
“No.”
I looked directly at Tyler.
“I’m not your life raft.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“And you are not a project.”
His eyes filled.
“Okay.”
“If I stay, it will be because I choose this marriage.”
“Okay.”
“If I leave, it will be because I choose myself.”
“Okay.”
“But I haven’t chosen yet.”
That was the truth.
He took it.
After counseling, Mason and Lily were playing cards on the floor.
Diane sat nearby.
Claire was making tea.
For the first time, we looked almost like a family.
A bizarre, damaged, newly assembled family.
Mason waved Tyler over.
“Dad, play.”
Tyler sat.
Lily dealt him cards.
“Do you know Go Fish?”
Tyler looked offended.
“I am an airline captain.”
Mason laughed.
“That doesn’t mean you know Go Fish.”
It was the first easy sound in days.
Then Lily asked Tyler something.
“When you fly again, can I come?”
The room went quiet.
Tyler looked at her.
“If I fly again.”
“You will.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Mason says you’re the best.”
Mason looked embarrassed.
“I said he used to be.”
Tyler clutched his heart.
“Brutal.”
Mason grinned.
I watched them.
And I realized my happy ending, if there was going to be one, wouldn’t come from pretending none of this happened.
It would come from building something new from the truth.
Then Tyler’s phone buzzed.
A message from the airline.
His simulator evaluation was scheduled.
May you like
If he passed the technical and psychological reviews, he could return to flight duty.
If he failed, his career might be over.
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