Chapter 14 - RYAN’S STORY
Ryan’s attorney released his version in court filings.
I was unstable.
Hormonal.
Paranoid about money.
I attacked him with the wooden stake.
I fell into the trench during the struggle.
He tried to help.
Ben misunderstood.
The audio was “selectively recorded.”
Then he produced photographs.
A bruise on his forearm.
Scratches on his neck.
Mine.
I remembered.
When he forced me into the trench, I clawed him.
Self-defense.
But earlier in our marriage?
He had photographs of another scratch from six months before.
That argument.
He blocked the kitchen door.
I shoved him.
He stumbled.
Then told me:
“You’re violent too.”
I had spent months wondering whether he was right.
I admitted it to Tessa.
She asked:
“Were you trying to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Was he blocking you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you continue attacking once you got past?”
“No.”
Context.
Still not sainthood.
I had screamed.
Thrown a mug once.
Said cruel things.
May you like
None justified confinement or fraud.
The legal system did not require me to be pleasant to qualify for protection.
