Chapter 6 - The Ultimatum
Wednesday evening, I finally broke my silence. I didn't call them. I had my corporate attorney send a certified letter to their estate.
The letter was clinical and precise. It outlined that all financial support was terminated immediately. It stated that the titles to their luxury cars—which were in my company's name—would need to be surrendered within 48 hours, or they would be reported stolen. It concluded with a strict cease-and-desist order, warning them that any attempt to contact me, Clara, or show up at our property would result in a restraining order.
I received a tearful, hysterical voicemail from my mother from an unknown number on Thursday.
"Arthur, baby, please! It was just water! She's fine! You can't do this to us! The neighbors are whispering. Vanessa’s car was towed this morning! You are ruining our lives over a clumsy mistake! Please, just turn the cards back on!"
It wasn't an apology. It was a complaint. She still blamed Clara. She still called it a "clumsy mistake."
I deleted the voicemail.
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Clara and I spent that weekend decorating the nursery. We painted the walls a soft, calming lavender. We assembled the crib together. For the first time in our marriage, the phantom shadow of my demanding, entitled family was completely gone from our home. Clara laughed freely. The stress that had been tightening her shoulders for months evaporated. I realized then that my money hadn't just been funding my family's lifestyle; it had been funding their abuse of my wife.
Never again.
