Chapter 4 - THOMASIN’S ENGAGEMENT
I ended the engagement four days after the reunion.
Not because of the handwritten warning.
That still lacked context.
Because Thomasin admitted cutting photographs.
We met with attorneys present because she had already threatened legal action over the broken frame.
No children.
Neutral office.
I asked:
“Did you cut Carys out of Lowri’s photographs?”
Thomasin stared at me.
“Some.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I tried to build something with Lowri, she pushed her dead mother between us.”
My jaw tightened.
“She is five.”
“I know.”
“You cut her mother out of pictures.”
“I was trying to stop the obsession.”
“Who told you that was appropriate?”
She looked away.
“Your mother agreed.”
There.
Then:
“Did she tell you to?”
“Not every time.”
Good.
No puppet story.
Thomasin made choices.
Then I asked:
“Did you tell Lowri no one wanted to remember her?”
“I said something terrible.”
“Yes.”
“I was angry.”
“At a five-year-old.”
“At you.”
There.
Again.
Adults using child as route to each other.
Then:
“Why?”
“Because you never fully chose me.”
I almost laughed.
“I proposed.”
“You proposed and kept a portrait of Carys in your bedroom.”
It had been on a shelf.
Not altar.
My late wife.
Lowri’s mother.
“You expected me to remove it?”
“I expected some space that belonged to us.”
“That discussion was with me.”
“I tried.”
Maybe.
I had dismissed her too sometimes.
But then:
“So you made Lowri remove Carys instead?”
Thomasin started crying.
“I thought if she stopped making Carys the center of everything, we could become a family.”
There.
Not malicious mastermind.
Dangerous insecurity.
Then the threat:
“Touch me and Lowri learns the truth.”
“What truth?”
Her attorney interrupted.
Thomasin answered anyway.
“That Carys didn’t trust your mother.”
I stared.
“That’s not news now.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
She stopped.
Her attorney leaned toward her.
No answer.
Then I slid engagement ring box across table.
Her ring? She wore it. She'd need return depending jurisdiction. I simply said:
“The engagement is over.”
Thomasin’s face hardened.
“You’re choosing a dead woman.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“My daughter.”
She laughed bitterly.
“She will never let you love anyone.”
That sentence ended every remaining doubt.
“No. You decided loving you required her to lose someone else.”
Thomasin stood.
Meeting over.
Then legal consequence for me.
Prosecutor offered diversion for reckless property destruction/disorderly conduct related to the framed portrait.
Thomasin had minor bruising from the chair fall and one superficial cut from glass on her hand.
I had thrown the frame into empty patio space beside her, not at her body.
Still dangerous.
Terms:
Restitution for damaged frame.
Conflict-management counseling.
No contact except attorneys for three months.
Completion could avoid conviction.
I accepted.
No defense that she deserved it.
Lowri later asked:
“Thomasin coming back?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“Not to live with us.”
She looked relieved.
Then guilty.
“Because me?”
“No.”
“Because pictures?”
“Because of choices adults made.”
“Yours too?”
That hurt.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
Honest answer easier for children than false perfection.
Then:
“Grandma?”
“We’re figuring that out.”
Her face tightened.
Not relief.
Fear.
That difference mattered.
Lowri disliked Thomasin.
She feared Mother.
May you like
The warning likely pointed where I first looked.
But I still needed proof.
