Chapter 14 - Richard’s Statement
Dad’s sworn deposition happened in February.
I did not attend.
Amelia summarized.
He admitted:
He loaned Brandon $50,000.
He gave Brandon my brokerage statement without permission.
He signed the witness section without seeing me execute the document.
He knew Brandon had gambling problems before our final Sunday.
He knew Brandon still owed $8,000.
He told me not to “drag us into your marriage” partly because he feared conflict would expose his secret financial involvement.
He did not know Brandon intended to forge the second refinance.
He refused to assist when Brandon later requested.
All supported by messages.
Then Brandon’s attorney asked:
“Did Chloe ever tell you Brandon was abusive before the Sunday incident?”
Dad hesitated.
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped when Amelia told me.
“What?”
“When?”
“Dad says you told him after Thanksgiving two years ago that Brandon punched a wall and grabbed your arm.”
I remembered.
Barely.
A phone call.
I had said:
“He scared me.”
Dad answered:
“Marriage gets heated. Don’t use words like abuse unless you mean them.”
I stopped talking.
I had forgotten.
Or buried.
Dad remembered.
He had known years earlier.
Not about hitting my face.
About escalation.
Amelia continued:
“His deposition says he regrets minimizing.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Useful.”
“Legally, yes.”
“What about Mom?”
“She says you told her too, indirectly.”
Of course.
I asked:
“Does this hurt me? That I stayed?”
“No.”
“Brandon’s lawyer will say I didn’t think it was abuse then.”
“They may.”
“I didn’t.”
“Many people minimize while inside relationship.”
“Will judge understand?”
“Probably. We use evidence.”
Again.
Dad’s deposition included one line I did not expect.
Attorney:
Why did you distrust your daughter’s judgment?
Richard:
Because she was always more willing to leave conflict than I was.
Attorney:
Meaning?
Richard:
Chloe would end conversations, quit jobs, or distance herself when people treated her badly. I thought that was impulsive. I see now I taught her to tolerate too much instead.
I stared at transcript.
That was the closest Dad came to understanding.
I still did not call.
But I saved it.
Mom filed for legal separation from Dad.
Not divorce yet.
They attended counseling.
I wanted no role.
When relatives called asking me to “help them reconcile,” I said:
“No.”
The word no became easier.
My aunt said:
“They’re your parents.”
“Yes.”
“They’re falling apart because of this.”
“No.”
“What?”
“They’re falling apart because of what they did with their own marriage.”
Silence.
Then:
“You sound cold.”
Maybe.
Or finally differentiated.
I hung up.
May you like
That night, I slept without hallway light.
I noticed only the next morning.
