Chapter 12 - THATCHER’S COUNSELING
I did not want updates.
Then Thatcher’s counselor asked, through lawyers, whether I would participate in one structured accountability session after my diversion ended.
I said no.
Months later, yes.
Not because marriage.
Because I wanted one question answered.
Why did he slap me?
We sat in a room with two professionals.
No touching.
No reconciliation script.
Thatcher’s hand had healed.
Two fingers still stiff.
He looked thinner.
I asked:
“Why?”
He knew.
“Because you challenged my father.”
“That’s what you said in deposition.”
“Yes.”
“Why did that matter enough to hit me?”
He looked at floor.
“Because I was terrified.”
“Of him?”
“Yes.”
“Then why hit me instead?”
“Because you were safer.”
The room went quiet.
There.
The deepest cowardice.
He could not strike his father.
Could not tell him no.
Could not save his mother.
So he used power where he had it.
Me.
“I knew Dad was dangerous,” he said. “I told myself Mom chose to stay.”
I stared.
“And when she asked for help?”
“I said she was dragging me into it.”
“And when she warned you about marrying me?”
“I thought she wanted to sabotage us.”
“You knew he hit her.”
“Yes.”
“Did you think you might hit me?”
“No.”
“Until you did.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
I believed he meant it.
That did not matter enough.
“I forgive you for being afraid.”
His face lifted.
“I do not forgive you for making me pay for your fear.”
He cried.
I left.
No hug.
May you like
No reunion.
Our divorce continued.
