Chapter 12 - My Bouquet Case

The prosecutor charged my conduct separately from Amanda’s.
Correct.
The object was flowers.
The act was still intentional.
Amanda had a scratch near her collarbone and mild facial redness from stems.
No serious injury.
I did not argue self-defense.
Sophie was behind me.
Amanda had stopped touching her.
I accepted a diversion offer.
Six months.
Anger-management assessment.
Community service.
No unlawful contact with Amanda.
Successful completion meant dismissal.
My brother? I had no brother established. Caroline teased me about community service until she learned where I was assigned.
A nonprofit kitchen serving families staying near children’s hospitals.
I owned restaurants.
So naturally they put me on food prep.
The manager handed me a box of onions.
“You chop?”
“I own six kitchens.”
“That was not the question.”
I chopped.
Good lesson.
The anger-management counselor was named Robert Vance.
He was unimpressed by size, money, or my explanation.
“What was your goal when you threw the bouquet?”
“To get it away from her.”
“You had it in your hand.”
Silence.
“Try again.”
“To hurt her.”
“With flowers?”
“Yes.”
“To punish.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Now we have something useful.”
I hated therapy when it worked.
He taught me to identify the exact second when protective action ends.
Get child behind you.
Create distance.
Leave.
Call professionals.
Anything after danger is controlled needs a new justification.
Anger is not one.
Months later, that distinction would matter outside my family too.
May you like
But first Amanda had to answer for what she did.
────────────────────