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He watches that too.
Like he’s cataloging everything.
“You didn’t answer her,” I say.
Not accusing.
Just… stating.
His jaw tightens.
Slightly.
“I should have.”
That’s it.
No excuses.
No story.
Just truth.
And somehow?—
that hits harder.
I nod once.
Respecting it.
He leans back slightly.
Still watching me.
“You built this,” he says. “On your own.”
“Yeah.”
“Stanford.”
“Full ride.”
“Athlete.”
I shrug. “I like to win.”
A flicker of something crosses his face.
Pride.
“You are like me,” he says.
I tilt my head.
“Is that a compliment or a warning?”
“Both.”
