Richard received news of Thomas's death years later, through a mutual acquaintance.
He remembered reading the message in his office.
He remembered staring at it for several minutes.
He remembered telling his assistant to send flowers.
He never attended the funeral.
He told himself he had too many obligations.
The truth was simpler.
He was ashamed.
And rather than face the shame, he buried it beneath another meeting, another acquisition, another financial report.
For decades, he had continued building his empire.
He had never stopped to consider what Thomas would think of the man he had become.
Until now.
Chapter 7: The Question Emily Refused to Avoid
Richard finished his story without looking at Emily.
"I told myself that Thomas understood why I had become distant," he said. "I told myself that he was happy with his life and that I had no obligation to interfere."
He paused.
"But the truth is that I didn't want to admit I had treated him badly."
Emily remained silent.
Richard looked up.
"I should have gone to his funeral."
"Yes," Emily answered.
"I should have called him when I heard he was ill."
"Yes."
"I should have thanked him properly."
Emily's expression softened, but she did not rush to comfort him.
"Yes."
Richard accepted each answer.
He had expected anger, perhaps even an accusation that he had abandoned Thomas when their friendship became inconvenient.
Instead, Emily gave him the truth without decorating it.
It reminded him of the man he had lost.
"Did he ever ask about me?" Richard asked.
"Sometimes."
Richard's fingers tightened around the cane.
"What did he say?"
Emily considered her answer.
"He wondered whether you were happy."
The old man looked up.
"Happy?"
"Yes. He said you had achieved more than you ever imagined, but he hoped you hadn't sacrificed everything else to do it."
Richard looked toward the window.
Outside, cars moved along the avenues. Office towers shone against the evening sky. Somewhere in those buildings, employees were finishing reports, answering emails, and waiting for decisions made by people they would never meet.
Richard had spent his life accumulating things that could be counted.
He had never been certain how to measure happiness.
Emily continued.
"My father didn't spend his final years talking about how you had hurt him. He had his family, his friends, and his work. He was disappointed, but he didn't want to spend his life being angry."
Richard's eyes lowered.
"He was a better man than I was."
"He tried to be a good man," Emily said. "That doesn't mean he was perfect."
Richard gave a faint, sad smile.
"No. It doesn't."
Emily looked at him carefully.
"Why did you insult me?"
The question surprised him.
"What?"
"Before you knew my name. Before you knew who my father was. Why did you look at me and decide that I was worthless?"
Richard opened his mouth.
No answer came.
He could have blamed age, frustration, habit, or the pressure of business. He could have said that he was having a difficult evening.
But none of those explanations would have answered the question.
Finally, he spoke.
"Because I have spent too long believing that the world should arrange itself around me."
Emily waited.
"I have become accustomed to being obeyed. When someone doesn't immediately agree with me, I sometimes interpret it as disrespect. When someone has less money or influence than I do, I have allowed myself to assume that they have less to offer."
He looked directly at her.
"That is not an excuse. It's the truth, and it's an ugly one."
Emily nodded slowly.
"At least you understand that."
Richard seemed almost relieved that she had not pretended the admission erased his behavior.
"I don't expect you to forgive me tonight."
"Good."
He looked surprised.
Emily folded her hands in front of her.
"Because I don't know you well enough to decide whether I can trust you. An apology matters, but what you do afterward matters more."
Richard absorbed the words.
For much of his life, apologies had been tools.
People apologized to keep contracts, avoid lawsuits, protect reputations, or gain access to him again.
He had often accepted their apologies because doing so was convenient.
He had rarely asked whether their behavior changed.
Now a young waitress was telling him that he would be judged by what he did next.
And he knew she was right.
Chapter 8: The Business Associate Who Mistook Power for Respect
Daniel had remained quiet throughout most of the conversation.
He was still struggling to understand why Richard had allowed a waitress to speak to him so directly.
To Daniel, the entire situation was a threat to the hierarchy he had spent years trying to climb.
He finally interrupted.
"Richard, I think we're losing sight of the real issue."
Richard turned toward him.
"And what issue is that?"
Daniel gestured toward Emily.
"She insulted you in public. If you let this go, everyone will think they can talk to you however they want."
Emily looked at him.
"I haven't asked Mr. Blackwood to do anything for me."
Daniel ignored her.
"People watch how leaders respond to disrespect. If you don't establish boundaries, they lose confidence in your authority."
Richard studied him.
"Is that what you believe happened tonight?"
"Yes."
"Then let me ask you something. If I had insulted a member of your family in front of a room full of strangers, would you consider it acceptable for me to demand an apology from them?"
Daniel hesitated.
"That's different."
"Why?"
"Because—"
"Because I have money?"
Daniel's mouth tightened.
"Because you're the client."
Richard shook his head.
"That is not an answer."
He leaned forward.
"Daniel, you have spent five years working beside me. You have watched how I speak to employees, how I negotiate with suppliers, and how I react when someone challenges my decisions. Tell me honestly: what have you learned from me?"
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
"I've learned to be decisive."
"Anything else?"
"To demand high standards."
"Anything else?"
Daniel said nothing.
Richard waited.
Finally, Daniel replied, "To protect your position."
Richard leaned back.
There it was.