Page 67 of Open Secrets
He just shakes his head, still breathing hard. “I don’t understand how you could ever be okay with that.” He waves a hand, dismissive, disgusted.
I swallow hard. “I was scared she was gonna ask for a divorce. Turns out all she wanted was for me to come home.”
For a long moment, he just studies me. And for once, I don’t know if he’s about to swing again—or give me advice.
He wipes the sweat from his brow, breathing slow. “I understand, Lyle. The thrill of being out there. Defendingthe American people. But now… with the way the political environment is lately, I—” He pauses, voice hitching, then lets out a long breath. “I’m glad you’re retiring.”
I raise a brow. “What aboutConnelly men don’t quit?”
He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Believe it or not, those weremy father’swords. Not mine. Somewhere along the way, I started repeating them like gospel.”
I frown, uneasy.
He looks down the street, then back at me. “The way your children speak of you, how much they love you and respect you… it made me realize that’s what I wanted once. And somewhere, somehow, I ended up becoming the opposite.”
“Dad…” My voice drops, cautious. “What’s going on? You’re talking like…”
With a grunt, he lowers himself onto the porch steps. For the first time in my life, my father looks… old.
“I’m talking like a man who knows his time’s winding down,” he says finally, staring out into the dark.
My chest tightens. “What do you mean?”
He smiles faintly. “I have a son that’s retiring. I’m no spring chicken, son.”
I lower myself onto the step beside him. “You’re in your sixties, Dad. With exercise and good eating—”
His laugh cuts me off, deep and sudden. “Your mother might as well get a whip and strike me with it, the way she barks at me to walk faster.”
I can’t help but smile. “Sheisan Army wife.”
That earns another chuckle, softer this time. He leans back on his hands, eyes on the night sky. “My father died one year after retirement.”
I turn my head sharply. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
He nods, gaze still far away. “Heart gave out. Didn’t even make it to seventy.” He breathes out slow, like the memory’s pressing on his ribs. “I think the only reason I’m still here is because of your mom. That woman stuck with me through thick and thin, and I guess I just can’t understand why anyone would…”
He trails off.
I wait, watching his jaw work, waiting for the rest.
“…why anyone would put their marriage at risk,” he finishes finally, voice rough. His eyes cut to me, sharp again. “You don’t just open—” he spits the word like it tastes foul “—your marriage because things are hard. You work at it.”
The words land heavy, like he just swung at me again.
I stare down at my hands, knuckles scraped raw from slamming his dashboard earlier, from years of carrying weapons, from holding too tight to things I should’ve let go.
“I thought Iwasworking at it,” I mutter. “I thought I was giving her what she wanted so she wouldn’t leave me.”
He lets out a sharp breath, half disgust, half disbelief. “That’s not working at it, son. That’s running scared.”
I clench my jaw, but he’s not finished.
“This mess with that woman—whatever it is—if you don’t tell Maria, then you’re making the same bad decision all over again.”
The words slice deeper than his punch ever could.
I look at him, throat tight, chest burning. “You think I don’t know that?”
