Chapter 12 - The Desperate Plea
Exactly two weeks after the lawsuit was served, a heavy, expensive floral arrangement arrived at my condominium.
The front desk concierge brought it up, assuming it was a gift from a new friend in the building.
I opened the small, embossed card tucked into the white roses and immediately felt a surge of disgust.
"Mom, please, I am so sorry for everything. I am completely ruined. Call me," the card read.
It was from Clara, obviously sent using the absolute last of her available credit.
She wasn't genuinely sorry for slapping me, or for publicly lying about me on the internet.
She was simply sorry that her vicious actions finally had severe, undeniable consequences.
I picked up the entire heavy glass vase and walked it directly over to the kitchen trash can.
I dropped it in, entirely unbothered by the loud crash of shattering glass and crushed petals.
My phone rang a few minutes later, displaying an unknown, out-of-state number.
I let it go directly to voicemail, knowing exactly who was calling.
When I listened to the message later, it was Clara, sobbing hysterically into the receiver.
"You can't do this to me, you are my mother, you are supposed to protect me!" she wailed desperately.
"I have nowhere to go, David won't even speak to me, please drop the lawsuit!"
I deleted the message with a single swipe of my finger.
I was a mother, yes, but I was also a human being who deserved basic, fundamental respect.
May you like
She had completely revoked her privileges to my maternal instinct the second she struck my face.
I blocked the new number and went back to reading my novel on the sunny patio.
