My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.

That you stood there and took every one of them and didn’t hit back.”

“I could have.”

“I know.” He swallowed.

“That’s the part I can’t forgive.

Not what I did.

That I did it to someone who could have stopped me, and chose not to.

And you still gave me a lawyer.

You still said yes at the gate.”