Chapter 11 - My Own Slap
Vanessa filed against me.
Again:
Her right.
Video showed:
Margaret safe.
Security beside her.
I walked over.
Hit Vanessa.
Nothing defensive about that second.
I had not been attacked.
I was furious.
That was not a legal privilege.
My attorney, Daniel Cho, advised me to accept a pretrial diversion offer rather than posture.
One open-handed strike.
No prior conviction.
No continued attack.
Anger-management assessment.
Community service.
No direct contact with Vanessa.
Successful completion:
dismissal.
I accepted.
Some relatives were disgusted.
Not that I hit her.
That I accepted consequences.
One older cousin said:
“You let the state treat you like some guy in a bar.”
I answered:
“I was some guy who slapped a woman.”
He looked offended.
Good.
Old family mythology had trained too many Serrano men to think:
Context plus surname equals exemption.
I did not want that for the next generation.
My mother said nothing when I told her.
Then:
“Good.”
“You could pretend sympathy.”
“No.”
“You raised me.”
“I tried.”
I laughed.
Then she said:
“Protecting me does not require becoming the most dangerous person in the room.”
That sentence stayed.
I had spent decades making sure I could be exactly that.
May you like
Maybe it was time to learn another skill.
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