Over time, entitlement became resentment.
Trevor complained constantly that I controlled money.
Kristen began believing him.
Then she saw the corporate records and realized something Trevor had never understood:
I was not hoarding his assets.
They were mine.
Instead of correcting him, she decided to convert his expectation into reality.
She wrote:
I told myself you had too much and we were only accelerating inheritance.
That was theft with nicer vocabulary.
Good sentence.
Then:
I also told myself Trevor’s temper was not my responsibility.
His violence was his choice.
Encouraging his anger was mine.
I put the letter down.
That distinction mattered.
She did not ask me to forgive her.
She asked one thing:
Would I return her grandmother’s cookbook found in the River Oaks kitchen?
I laughed.
Of all the assets.
All the lies.
A cookbook.
I had it.
Harbor House had sent personal items through lawyers.
I mailed it.
