Chapter 13 - THE SLAP
My criminal case was simple compared to Helena’s.
I slapped her.
Video?
One security man’s body camera had begun recording when he entered after the crash, too late for the slap.
No direct footage.
But I admitted it.
Celeste saw.
Marina saw.
Helena had bruising.
No need make everyone prove what I already knew.
The prosecutor offered diversion for misdemeanor assault.
No prior conviction.
One strike.
No serious injury.
Conditions:
Anger-management.
Restitution for Helena’s medical copay.
No unlawful contact.
Completion meant dismissal.
I accepted.
One of my older associates said:
“Your own mother?”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“You’re paying her medical bill after what she did?”
“Yes.”
He stared as if law had become comedy.
I wrote the check.
Then class.
The instructor, Dana Ruiz, asked:
“Was Celeste safe when you hit Helena?”
“Yes.”
“Was Helena holding the baby?”
“No baby yet.”
“Was Helena attacking Celeste at that second?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I wanted to hurt her.”
“Why?”
“Because she humiliated my wife and forged papers to take my son.”
“That explains anger.”
“Yes.”
“Does it make the slap protective?”
“No.”
Then Dana asked:
“What did Celeste do when you hit Helena?”
I remembered.
She flinched.
My chest tightened.
“She flinched.”
“Who was she afraid of?”
I did not answer immediately.
Dana waited.
“Maybe everyone.”
There.
That sentence stayed.
Celeste had spent an hour being controlled by two Ravello women.
Then I walked in and proved the Ravello man could also solve conflict with force.
Different motive.
May you like
Same room.
That was not the husband I wanted to be.
