“Discipline includes knowing when to stop.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“That's convenient.”
“What is?”
“You always tell people to stop when things get difficult.”
Althea studied him.
“Do you think that's what I'm doing?”
Marcus gestured toward Ben.
“He makes the same mistake every time. If he wants to fight, he needs to learn to handle pressure.”
“Pressure is useful when the person understands what they're learning.”
“He needs to be pushed.”
“He needs to be taught.”
Marcus's face hardened.
“Maybe he doesn't need you protecting him.”
Ben looked uncomfortable.
“It's okay,” he said.
Althea did not take her eyes off Marcus.
“Ben, you don't have to decide anything right now.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“Are you saying I don't know how to train?”
“I'm saying you're not listening.”
The words landed sharply.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Marcus looked toward the ring.
“Fine.”
He picked up his tablet and walked away.
Ben remained in the center of the mat.
Althea turned toward him.
“Sit down.”
He obeyed.
After a moment, he spoke.
“I don't want him thinking I'm weak.”
Althea sat beside him.
“Why?”
“Because he's the champion.”
“And?”
“I want to be like him.”
Althea nodded.
“Then learn from the parts worth copying.”
Ben looked at her.
“What about the rest?”
“Leave those behind.”
That evening, Marcus stayed late.
The gym was nearly empty.
The lights above the main floor had been dimmed, leaving only the training area and reception illuminated.
He stood beside the ring, staring at the ropes.
He could still hear Althea's words.
You need to be taught.
He disliked the idea that she might be right.
He disliked even more that he had seen it happen.
Ben had improved when Althea worked with him.
The improvement had been small, but measurable.
Marcus had pushed him harder and watched him become more confused.
He picked up his tablet and opened the footage from their session.
He watched Ben's movement.
Then he watched the moment when Ben's feet crossed.
He paused the video.
The mistake was obvious.
He replayed it.
Again.
Again.
Then he noticed something else.
He had advanced directly toward Ben, forcing him to retreat along the same line.
He had created the problem he was criticizing.
Marcus stared at the screen.
He closed the video.
Across the gym, Althea was finishing the last of her cleaning.
She had not noticed him.
He watched her wipe the edge of the ring apron.
Then she lifted the bucket and carried it toward the storage area.
Marcus stood.
“Althea.”
She looked over.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He approached slowly.
“Earlier, when you said Ben needed to be taught…”
“Yes?”
“Were you saying I don't know how?”
Althea set the bucket down.
“No.”
“Then what were you saying?”
She considered her words.
“You know how to fight, Marcus.”
He waited.
“But knowing how to fight and knowing how to teach someone are different skills.”
He nodded.
“And you think I don't know how to teach?”
“I think you haven't learned to adjust your approach to the person in front of you.”
Marcus looked down.
“That's fair.”
Althea seemed surprised by the answer.
He rubbed his forehead.
“I pushed him too hard.”
“Yes.”
“And I made the mistake worse.”
“Yes.”
He looked up.
“You don't have to agree so quickly.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“You asked.”
Marcus laughed softly.
Then his expression became serious.
“I want to be better at this.”
Althea nodded.
“Then start by being patient.”
“With Ben?”
“With everyone.”
Marcus looked toward the empty ring.
“That's harder than it sounds.”
“Most important things are.”
She picked up her bucket.
Marcus watched her for a moment.
Then he said something he had not planned to say.
“I'm sorry about the other night.”
Althea stopped.
He continued.
“I was disrespectful. I knew you were working, and I deliberately walked across the floor after you cleaned it. Then I told you to do it again.”
He swallowed.
“I shouldn't have done that.”
Althea studied him.
“No. You shouldn't have.”
Marcus nodded.
“I understand that now.”
She did not rush to comfort him.
She did not tell him it was fine.
She simply said, “Thank you for saying it.”
He looked relieved, although he tried not to show it.
Then she added, “What matters now is what you do next time.”
Marcus nodded again.
“I know.”
Althea picked up her bucket.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
She walked toward the storage room.
Marcus remained near the ring.
For the first time in several days, he felt no need to defend himself.
He had apologized.
It did not erase what he had done.
But it was a beginning.
The next morning, the sponsor representative arrived at Crownline with a new proposal.
His name was Grant Holloway.
He was thirty-eight, sharply dressed, and responsible for Marcus's promotional campaign.
He carried a leather folder and spoke with the confidence of someone who believed every problem could be solved by controlling the message.