Because the sentence was so clear.
The problem, to Gregory, was not the secret agreement.
The problem was my refusal to sign it.
I wrote back:
I am not signing anything. Do not remove, destroy, transfer, or give anyone my documents.
Then I stopped responding.
His messages escalated for several hours.
You’re being irrational.
Christopher is manipulating you.
Your mother has always disliked me.
You’re going to regret blowing up your life over a misunderstanding.
Then, near midnight, he sent something different.
Fine. Come get your things tomorrow. Bring whoever you want.
It sounded like surrender.
I did not trust it.
Neither did Christopher.
The next morning, we arranged to retrieve essential belongings without putting Abigail in the middle of the confrontation.
She stayed with Mom.
Before I left, Abigail came to the door carrying my old canvas tote bag.
“You always forget a bag,” she said.
I took it from her.
