Chapter 25: Father and Daughter

The restaurant Grace's father chose for their meeting was costly and intimidating, with discussions held in hushed tones and every aspect geared to emphasise the establishment's prominence. Grace arrived five minutes early to give herself time to prepare for a talk she'd been avoiding for three years.

Richard Chen appeared older than his book jacket photo indicated, his hair greyer than silver, and his face etched by lines that screamed of stress rather than wisdom. When she approached the table, he stood and extended his hand in a professional rather than paternal gesture.

Grace. "You look good."

"Hello, Dad."

They sat across from one other at a table that seemed too big for two people, the stillness stretching between them like a canyon formed by three years of wrath and despair. Grace had prepared discussion points, issues she needed answered, and boundaries she wanted to keep. When confronted by her father's physical presence, she found herself suddenly dumbfounded.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet," he began, unfolding his serviette with the precision of someone who approached every meal as a business transaction. "I wasn't sure you would."

"I wasn't sure I would either."

The waiter emerged and offered wine recommendations, which Richard received with the authority of someone used to being deferred to. Grace ordered water, needing to clear her mind for whatever came next.

"You're engaged," Richard commented, noting her ring. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"To Max Walker, I assume."

He casually spoke Max's name, which made her tummy knot. "You mention him in your book. Without asking. "Without permission."

"I reported on a federal case that became public record. "Your relationship with Mr. Walker was important to the prosecution's strategy."

"My relationship with Max is none of your business."

"Your relationship with Max became my business when it intersected with federal law enforcement." Richard leaned forward slightly, his look changing to the prosecutorial one she knew from childhood arguments. "Grace, you were involved in a significant government probe. Your personal decisions had consequences beyond your private life."

"So you decided to analyse those choices in a book deal?"

"I decided to look into how personal relationships can complicate law enforcement operations." It's a significant topic that requires substantial academic attention."

"Academic treatment?" Grace's voice raised briefly before she caught herself. "Dad, you

described my relationship as 'co-dependent trauma bonding.' You described Max as having a 'protector complex.' You used our love story as a case study in psychological disorder."

Richard's expression did not change. "I described observed behavioural patterns that corresponded to known psychological models. My analysis was founded on documented evidence and expert consultation."

"Your analysis relied on guesswork and judgement. You know nothing about my relationship with Max."

"I know you moved in with a stranger, got romantically involved during a time of high stress, and made important life decisions while under the impact of trauma. These are not the typical settings for the development of good partnerships."

The clinical detachment in his words reawakened something in Grace that she thought she'd forgotten years ago: the feeling of being studied rather than understood, analysed rather than accepted.

"You're doing it again," she said gently.

"Doing what?"

"Treat me as a subject rather than your daughter. Like a case to be solved rather than a person to be cherished."

Richard laid down his water glass with meticulous care. "Grace, everything I've done in my career has been fuelled by a desire to protect people. "Including you."

"By writing a book that exposes private details of my life?"

"By examining how federal law enforcement agencies sometimes fail to protect the civilians they're supposed to serve."

The change in his tone drew her attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Agent Santos used you as bait. Deliberate and knowingly. He extended your exposure to risk for investigation purposes.

"I understand. I talked with him."

Richard's eyebrows lifted slightly. "You spoke with Santos?"

"Yesterday. He concedes they could have caught Derek sooner, but claims the wait was required to disrupt Derek's entire network.

"And you accept that justification?"

"I'm trying to understand it."

"Grace, Santos breached every protocol intended to protect civilian assets. He put his inquiry before your safety. "What he did was both unethical and potentially illegal."

But it worked. Derek is in prison for life, his associates have been dismantled, and we are safe."

"This time." What about next time? "What about other civilians who could be used as bait in future investigations?"

The question hovered between them, and Grace saw her father's book from a new angle. Perhaps it wasn't simply exploitation of her trauma. Perhaps it was an attempt to highlight bad police enforcement practices.

"Is that why you wrote the book?" she enquired. "To expose Santos?"

"I wrote the book because I spent three years trying to figure out why my daughter was put in danger by the people who were supposed to safeguard her. And because I realised that my own

failures as a father had contributed to the problem."

"What failures?"

Richard was quiet for a long time, staring at his untouched wine. "Grace, I drove you away. My need to control your choices and protect you from risks I judged unacceptable drove you to make decisions without family backing. 

Acceptable, but forced you to make decisions without the support of your family. If we'd talked, if you'd felt safe phoning me when Derek first showed, the matter could have been handled differently."

The admission caught her off surprise. In thirty years, she had never heard her father admit that his parenting style was flawed.

"So you wrote a book about it?"

"I wrote a book in an attempt to understand it. Trying to understand you. I'm trying to figure out how a father can love his kid unconditionally while still absolutely failing her."

"By psychoanalysing my relationship and questioning my judgement?"

"By questioning my own preconceptions about what makes a relationship good or dysfunctional.

By analysing if my condemnation of your decisions sprang from true concerns or my selfish desire to dominate your life.

Grace felt a shift in her chest, a release of rage she'd harboured for three years. "And what did you conclude?"

"I concluded that you are more courageous than I gave you credit for. That your intuition for people is superior to mine. That Max Walker is probably a better man than I wanted to believe."

"Probably?"

Definitely. Anyone who would sacrifice his life to protect you, or who would choose to establish a life with you despite the difficulties you've both endured, is someone I should have attempted to understand rather than dismiss."

The server brought their dinner, but neither of them moved to eat. The conversation had moved into an area that demanded their complete concentration.

"Dad, there is something else. Santos claims your book may contain classified material. That you may face federal prosecution.

Richard's demeanor remained unchanged, but she noticed his jaw tighten slightly. "That's possible."

"How is that possible?" "How would you gain access to classified information?"

"Through sources within the Bureau and the prosecutor's office who believed the public deserved to know how the Voss case was handled."

"You mean whistleblowers."

"I mean conscientious law enforcement professionals who were disturbed by Santos's tactics and wanted accountability."

"Dad, you could go to prison."

I could. But I will not regret exposing activities that endanger innocent people.

"Even if it destroys your career?"

"My career is already over, Grace. I'm seventy three years old. My legacy is what is important right now."

"What legacy?"

"The legacy of being a father who finally fought for his daughter, even if it was three years too late."

Grace glanced at him, unable to reconcile this image of her father with the controlling, disapproving man with whom she had fought for the majority of her adult life. "You really think Santos was wrong?"

"I believe Santos produced positive outcomes using questionable tactics. I believe that the ends don't always justify the means. And I believe you and Max deserved better protection than you received.

"Even if we came out of it okay?"

"Especially since you got out of it okay. Your bravery and tenacity do not justify those who should have done more to safeguard you.

They ate in relative silence, both contemplating the consequences of their exchange. Grace found herself questioning not only her father's book, but also her own interpretation of what had transpired with Derek and Santos.

"There's something I need to ask you," she finally stated.

"Anything."

"In the book, you state that Mason and I have 'co-dependent trauma bonding.' Do you truly believe that?

Richard set down his fork and stared at her intently. "I believe that trauma can result in strong psychological ties that appear to be love but are actually dependent. I also believe that genuine compatibility and mutual respect can foster true love in the midst of trauma."

"Which do you think we have?"

"I believe that is for you to decide. But I believe the fact that you're asking the question indicates that you're not sure yourself."

The observation struck closer to home than Grace wanted to admit. "How would I know the difference?"

"By assessing your connection outside of a crisis. By questioning whether you would choose Mason Chen if you met him in a natural situation. Determine whether your affections for him are based on who he is or what he represents.

"What does he represent?"

"Safety, protection. "Proof that you can withstand anything."

"And if that's what I love about him?"

"Then you are not in love with him. "You're in love with feeling safe."

The words sank through her stomach like lead. She kept asking herself the same questions for weeks, but hearing them said by someone else made them feel more real and significant.

"What if you're correct, Dad? What if our connection is nothing more than complex trauma bonding?

"After that, you'll determine that and take the proper actions. But what if you're mistaken, Grace? What if you're doubting something because you're scared to believe your own instincts?

"I don't know how to tell the difference."

"Then maybe it's time to find out."

Richard gave her a big envelope as they were about to depart. "This is my book's initial draft, prior to the publisher's revisions. You should read it, please. Everything. After that, you should

determine if you can pardon me for writing it.

"Then at least you'll understand why I had to try."

They stood awkwardly on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, neither of them knowing how to terminate a talk that had covered thirty years of complex history and three years of silence.

Richard said, "Grace," at last. "You have my admiration. Three years ago, I should have said it, but I was too preoccupied with being correct to see that you were becoming the person I had always dreamed you would be."

"What kind of person is that?"

Amazing. Autonomous. Being prepared to stand up for what is important. able to withstand every challenge life presents."

"Even if what I'm fighting for is a relationship you think is psychologically unhealthy?"

"Especially at that time. Because it may be more genuine than I first believed, given your willingness to fight for it."

Grace pondered about the envelope on her passenger seat and her recent interaction with a father who seemed to be a complete stranger as she drove home. Three years of disappointment and rage were giving way to something more complex…... .love complicated by hurt, understanding coupled with impatience, and the hope that family ties could be restored even after they were irreversibly damaged.

However, beneath everything was the query that had been bothering her for weeks: Did she have a romantic relationship with Max, or was it based on complex survival? What did it indicate for their engagement, their future, and their aspirations to start a life together if she was unable to respond to that question?

After pulling into their parking spot, she sat for a while, wondering how her talk with her father had gone while gazing up at their apartment's windows, where Max was presumably making dinner. She would try to explain a conversation that had left more questions than answers when she walked through their door a few minutes later.

She had to first determine whether she was prepared to face the truth about her own heart, no matter the consequences.