Mr. Truman sat at the head of the bed, smoking as his mind filled with memories of the past.
He knew perfectly well that he had handled the matter poorly. He should have supported his wife in taking leave, but he had not.
At the time, he had never experienced anything like this. The military had a cruel and harsh side, but it was relatively simple as well.
Especially as a member of the military himself and an officer, his experience had led him to make the wrong judgment.
After that, they had tried many times, but every attempt had ultimately ended in failure.
Joanna had argued with him before. After one of their arguments, the two of them had agreed that neither of them was allowed to mention the matter again.
In truth, that agreement seemed childish, more like an irresponsible act of avoidance.
But...
He shook his head and stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. No buts!
He put the ashtray back on the bedside table, rose, walked to the desk, and picked up a document. Then he returned to the bed and began reading through it.
Work was perhaps the most important thing after all.
The next day, when Mr. Truman got up, Joanna had already left.
He had risen very early, at seven forty-five. His personal assistant told him that Joanna had left at seven and had not left any message.
As for how uncomfortable Mr. Truman felt, the truth was that he was not particularly bothered. His attitude toward the matter had gradually returned to calm and composure, and he could even view it from an objective perspective.
The nation's interests came before everything else. His main job now should be securing the federation's future, not dealing with the mess between himself and his