“I said I do.” “Then don’t punish me for it.” “I’m not punishing you.” “You are making me guess.”
Claire’s voice hardened. “Fine. I wanted you there.” “I wanted to be there.”
“Not enough.” “That’s unfair.” “So is watching everyone else bring someone while I explain that the man I love had a meeting.” Jack flinched at the word love used like evidence against him. “This project matters.”
“So does my work.” “I never said it didn’t.” “You don’t have to. You just keep assuming yours gets to create emergencies.”
The accusation reached deeper than the weekend. Jack heard his father in it. He heard every fear that leaving corporate architecture had not actually changed the part of him trained to worship professional usefulness. So he defended himself too aggressively.
“At least I’m building something people use,” he said. Silence. He regretted the sentence before it finished leaving his mouth. Claire spoke very quietly. “And what exactly do you think I’m doing?”
“Claire, I didn’t mean—” “No. You did. Maybe not all the way, but enough.”
She hung up. The fight lasted three days.