“This is unfair! A written apology and financial responsibility for restoring the wedding photos? These have nothing to do with the baby.”
“They’re about taking accountability and repairing trust. What you did wasn’t a joke, Beverly. You destroyed our only wedding album. You humiliated me. You tried to erase me from my own marriage.”
“I was emotional—”
“And if you can’t control your emotions well enough to behave like a decent human being, then that only reinforces the need for these documents.”
“How dare you!”
“This ties in directly with the other conditions: You will not use medical episodes, emotional distress, or guilt to control situations involving my child; you will never speak negatively about me to or in front of my child; and you will not publicly embarrass, undermine, or attempt to exclude me through jokes or staged incidents.”
Her voice cracked on that last line. “You can’t do this to me.”
“You did this to yourself.”
“Fine, I’ll apologize. I’ll pay for the album. I’ll tell everyone I was wrong. Just don’t cut me out. Please.”
“Then you know what to do. And if you cross these boundaries, my attorney will be in touch.”
I hung up the phone. I felt a strange sense of peace. It wasn’t triumph, exactly. It was just the feeling of finally standing on solid ground.
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