Chapter 12 - MY SLAP
The prosecutor reviewed my slap.
Celeste’s attorney argued:
I assaulted a woman while holding corporate evidence in a marital dispute.
Sounds ugly.
Video made context clearer.
She lunged.
I blocked.
She reached again.
I slapped.
Emma safely behind Maren.
No immediate need to strike after the second reach could have been blocked.
The prosecutor offered misdemeanor diversion.
Anger-management.
Restitution for Celeste’s bruised cheek and medical evaluation.
No unlawful contact.
No interference with her case.
Completion could result in dismissal.
I accepted.
My lawyer said:
“You could fight.”
“I could lose.”
“Maybe.”
“I hit her.”
“Yes.”
Emma had seen.
That ended debate.
At my first anger-management session, Dr. Caleb Morris asked:
“Why did you slap Celeste?”
“Because she locked my child in a wall.”
“Was your child in the wall when you slapped her?”
“No.”
“Was Celeste touching Emma?”
“No.”
“What were you protecting?”
“The evidence.”
“Could you protect a plastic bag without striking her face?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
I hated him.
“I wanted to hurt her.”
He nodded.
No moral speech.
That was worse.
Then:
“What did Emma learn?”
I stared.
“That adults hit when they are scared.”
“Were you scared?”
I had called it anger.
Underneath:
Yes.
Scared of what the USB meant.
Scared I had married someone I did not know.
Scared that my company had been used through my name.
Scared that Emma had been three feet into a wall while I was in another room.
“Yes.”
Dr. Morris said:
May you like
“Good. Start there.”
I returned the next week.
