Chapter 12 - MY PUNCH
Ryan’s nose was not broken.
One tooth chipped.
Lip cut.
Shoulder bruised from the railing.
My punch was on video.
Could it be lawful defense of another?
Possibly.
Ryan had just shoved Natalie down stairs.
He was stepping toward her again.
I told him to stay back.
He kept coming.
The prosecutor reviewed it.
My attorney argued I reasonably believed he was about to continue the assault.
Ryan’s lawyer argued he was approaching to speak.
No weapon.
No raised fist.
One punch.
The district attorney ultimately declined to file a separate charge against me after reviewing the timing, immediate prior assault, Ryan’s movement toward Natalie, and the limited force used to stop his approach.
That did not mean I was proud.
Anger had been inside the punch too.
I knew.
Natalie knew.
She said:
“You wanted to hit him.”
“Yes.”
“Would you have hit him if he stopped?”
I thought.
“No.”
She studied me.
“Good.”
Then:
“Don’t make me defend your violence because his was worse.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
That was the standard.
Not:
who deserved what.
What happened.
Why.
May you like
What was necessary.
What was not.
