[He takes a moment before he speaks to gather his thoughts. It's true - not everything about loving another person is good. He doesn't know that, not know it in his bones like most people do, because up until very recently he didn't love anyone, not even himself. He never had anyone he'd kill for before, not until he met Bruno, never had someone he'd fight off men twice his size for. He didn't have a father he would die for.]
[Maybe he does now. But saying that won't help at all, and it isn't an apology. So he chooses to explain it a different way.]
I want to apologize for telling Abbacchio what it was your right to tell him. But more than that - I want to apologize for getting involved in something that isn't mine at all, in any way. Something that was there before I came along, something that will be there when I'm gone.
[For another moment he pauses, takes a sip of his coffee, and looks back at Bruno, serious and unsmiling.]
I was talking to Jotaro, and he said . . . there were things he didn't want to tell me because I would take them on as my responsibility. I told him he was right to do that, because he perceives some thing about me more clearly than I do, and I told him about what I told Abbacchio, too. So he asked me if you needed to be protected from Abbacchio - as a hypothetical, you understand, because he knew the answer would be no; he just wanted to understand why I thought I had to step in.
. . . I got so angry so quickly, I didn't even have time to realize he'd framed it as a hypothetical, something meant to alert me to a possible mistake. I just lost my temper. It was stupid. It could've been deadly stupid, if it were a different situation with someone less trustworthy. And I believe it was selfish, too, because I prioritized my fear of instability, of losing one or both of you, over doing what a leader should do and trusting you both to sort it out yourselves.
You were right. I had no right to take even the slightest ownership of either of your deaths, or of the sacrifices you made to protect the rest of us. It was unfair and unkind and unnecessary, because no matter what, I know - I do know - that the two of you will support each other in the end.
Being a leader is about more than ensuring the safety of the people you're leading. It's about more than control. It's about trusting those closest to you to make choices that are right, and offering help if it's asked for, but only if it's asked for. You've both more than proven yourselves to me, and Abbacchio's position in Passione should not be contingent on whether or not he's angry with me. It's his home; I should never have been careless enough to jeopardize it.
So I'm sorry for being a poor leader to both of you in all those ways, and if you'll allow me - now or in the future - I'd like to be the kind of leader you can trust. And the kind of friend you can trust, as well.
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[Maybe he does now. But saying that won't help at all, and it isn't an apology. So he chooses to explain it a different way.]
I want to apologize for telling Abbacchio what it was your right to tell him. But more than that - I want to apologize for getting involved in something that isn't mine at all, in any way. Something that was there before I came along, something that will be there when I'm gone.
[For another moment he pauses, takes a sip of his coffee, and looks back at Bruno, serious and unsmiling.]
I was talking to Jotaro, and he said . . . there were things he didn't want to tell me because I would take them on as my responsibility. I told him he was right to do that, because he perceives some thing about me more clearly than I do, and I told him about what I told Abbacchio, too. So he asked me if you needed to be protected from Abbacchio - as a hypothetical, you understand, because he knew the answer would be no; he just wanted to understand why I thought I had to step in.
. . . I got so angry so quickly, I didn't even have time to realize he'd framed it as a hypothetical, something meant to alert me to a possible mistake. I just lost my temper. It was stupid. It could've been deadly stupid, if it were a different situation with someone less trustworthy. And I believe it was selfish, too, because I prioritized my fear of instability, of losing one or both of you, over doing what a leader should do and trusting you both to sort it out yourselves.
You were right. I had no right to take even the slightest ownership of either of your deaths, or of the sacrifices you made to protect the rest of us. It was unfair and unkind and unnecessary, because no matter what, I know - I do know - that the two of you will support each other in the end.
Being a leader is about more than ensuring the safety of the people you're leading. It's about more than control. It's about trusting those closest to you to make choices that are right, and offering help if it's asked for, but only if it's asked for. You've both more than proven yourselves to me, and Abbacchio's position in Passione should not be contingent on whether or not he's angry with me. It's his home; I should never have been careless enough to jeopardize it.
So I'm sorry for being a poor leader to both of you in all those ways, and if you'll allow me - now or in the future - I'd like to be the kind of leader you can trust. And the kind of friend you can trust, as well.