"Take a seat, Tom." I say. and he smiles politely as he sits on the chair in front of my desk. We are face to face and I feel the pressure of the moment. He doesn't seem angry or ready for a fight, but something inside me screams danger. It's the first time I have this bad feeling and I don't know how to take it. Overthinking or intuition?
I sigh. I am thinking too much, I guess.
"I want to apologize." He starts and instead of relief, my instincts say run.
"It wasn't the apologize I was looking for and you know that. Those are just pretty words." I answer but am sure he knows that. He is the one who taught me that.
"Sometimes they are a good start. This is the case now. I do apologize. I am old and I helped your father to keep this pack together since before you were born. But with tha
