A few weeks later, Hal is fully settled into the White House, charming Grace Penn and proving to be the perfect vice president. Kate, meanwhile, arrives in Washington for an event — and the awkwardness is immediate. The reason? She has a complete inability to handle diplomacy.

Seriously, it’s painful.

Kate insists on holding both positions — she wants to be Second Lady and Ambassador at the same time — while her marriage to Hal drags on as a convenient farce. Out of sheer pride and ambition, she refuses both the divorce and the reasonable request to spend more time in Washington. Naturally, as always, the diplomatic world bends itself around her chaos.

Hal tries to understand what still exists between them, but Kate won’t even answer — and somehow manages to accuse him of being inflexible because she “doesn’t know what she wants.” Yes, that’s our protagonist. Their argument about maintaining appearances (including sharing a bed) becomes yet another bitter fight. Hal, still in love, tolerates everything; Kate, never.

Even as vice president, Hal endures his wife’s public jabs. And yes, we’ve officially entered hate-watching territory. While publicly humiliating Hal, Kate only agrees to help Eidra because it keeps her away from him. Ironically, she’s the one who realizes that Grace is about to backtrack and withdraw the vice presidency offer — in public. And, of course, whose fault is that? Her own.

Now, miraculously, it’s Kate’s turn to save Hal — and she does, not missing the chance to humiliate him a little more, both publicly and privately. When they finally talk, she accuses him of being old-fashioned in his political strategy, only to change her mind the moment she realizes what he’s already doing. Together, they work; apart, they’re a disaster. Too bad the show keeps forcing them apart.

Meanwhile, back in London, Eidra is desperately trying to save her career, disappointed in Kate — and rightly so. Her dynamic with Stuart mirrors Kate and Hal’s in a twisted way: endless passive-aggressive arguments. Eidra is right to question both their competence and their empathy. And she’s right again when Kate simply “forgets” a crucial CIA meeting because she’s too busy helping Hal.

At the president’s funeral, Hal, hungover and on edge, finally snaps. At Kate’s request, he tries to keep his cool, but ends up publicly humiliating the governor of Pennsylvania — his political rival — in front of everyone. Grace watches, cold and calculating. Later, she calls Kate for a candid talk: both women know Hal is brilliant, dangerous, and uncontrollable. Grace fears that she might one day turn against her, and Kate, without denying it, confirms this. Deep down, Hal is the best person for the job — and both of them know it.

In the end, Grace chooses him. And The Diplomat once again leans into its essential irony: the show is infinitely better when Kate is offscreen and Hal is making history.