“He needs discipline before he needs a degree.”
The table went silent.
Eli slowly put down his fork.
“I’m doing fine.”
Grant ignored him.
“No. You’re confused.”
I reached for Grant’s hand beneath the table.
“Please.”
He pulled away.
“If he wants people to respect him, maybe he should join the military.”
Nobody spoke.
Grant stared directly at Eli.
“Maybe then you’ll finally become a real man.”
“Grant.”
“I’m trying to help him.”
His voice grew firmer.
“The world won’t be kind to him.”
The words hung over the dinner table.
I remember my niece crying in another room.
My mother whispering Grant’s name.
And Eli’s face.
He was not angry.
Not embarrassed.
Just broken.
He stood.
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”
Grant leaned back.
“You’ve been avoiding the truth your whole life.”
Then Eli looked at me.
