That scared them more than yelling would have.
“There’s nothing to fix.”
I handed Mark another document.
He stared at it.
“What’s this?”
“Notice from my attorney. Your mother defaulted on the private loan my company issued two years ago.”
Diane’s voice cracked.
“What notice?”
“The loan secured against your rental property.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You were eleven months behind before the crab dinner.”
I leaned back.
“I kept extending grace because you were family.”
My voice hardened.
“Then you served me an empty plate and announced that your funds for me were exhausted.”
No one spoke.
“So I finally accepted your terms.”
Mark stood.
“You’re going to take Mom’s property over dinner?”
“No. Your mother may lose collateral because she violated a legal agreement for eleven months. Dinner merely convinced me to stop rescuing her from consequences.”
Diane began crying.
Real tears now.
“You’ll make me homeless!”
“Your rental property isn’t your home.”
That ended the performance quickly.
Then I turned toward Mark.
“And you should pack.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
“I met with a divorce attorney this morning.”
“Claire…”
“You helped your mother deceive me.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
I pointed to the messages.
“It is literally written down.”
His expression collapsed.
Then he tried anger.
“You can’t just destroy everyone!”
“I’m not destroying anyone.”
I stood.
