“You needed my permission!”
“No, Eric. You needed ownership.”
He ranted about marriage, fairness, family, and the baby.
I let him finish.
Then I said, “You slapped the only person in that house who had the legal right to sell it.”
He stopped breathing for a second.
“You called it ‘basically ours.’ Your mother planned renovations. Your sister moved in. None of you ever checked the deed.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
I remembered the sting on my cheek.
“Learn to be useful.”
Then I hung up.
The fallout came immediately.
The buyer gave them the legally required time to leave, but Diane insisted the sale was fraudulent.
She hired a lawyer, who withdrew after reviewing the deed and prenup.
Eric tried to sue me anyway.
His claim collapsed.
Then my attorney sent him the divorce petition.
Attached were photographs of my bruised cheek, an urgent-care report from the morning after the slap, and a recording from our security system capturing his words: “Watch your mouth.”
His lawyer stopped talking about winning and started discussing settlement.
Eric later violated a temporary no-contact order by showing up at my U.S. office and demanding my location.
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