Garrett lowered his fist. He leaned in so close that only Bryce could hear him. "You think power is hurting people who can't fight back," Garrett whispered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "That’s not power. That’s weakness. True strength is knowing exactly what you are capable of destroying..."
Garrett stood up, towering over the broken, trembling instructor. "...and choosing not to," Garrett finished, his voice echoing in the dead-silent gym.
Garrett didn't look at the cameras. He didn't look at the stunned parents. He simply walked over to the edge of the mat, picked up his thermal and flannel shirt, and slipped them back on. The terrifying apex predator vanished, and the quiet, exhausted father returned. He stepped into his heavy work boots, leaving them unlaced.
Garrett walked over to the bench where Milo was sitting. The boy’s eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of shock, awe, and an entirely new understanding of the man who cooked his macaroni and cheese.