Then Mason came to my parents’ home with flowers.
The doorbell camera captured everything.
He wore a blue suit.
Carried white roses.
And looked devastated.
“Mr. Carter,” he said into the camera. “Please let me speak to Olivia.”
My father answered through the intercom.
“She’s not here.”
“I need five minutes.”
“No.”
“This has gotten out of control.”
“You should have thought about that before your family published my daughter’s name and accused her of fraud.”
Mason lowered his voice.
“I made mistakes.”
Dad said nothing.
“My mom created most of the tension that morning.”
My father laughed once.
“Mason, your mother didn’t throw anything at my daughter.”
“I was exhausted.”
“So was Olivia.”
“I had just gotten married.”
“So had Olivia.”
Mason stared toward the camera.
“I love her.”
Dad replied, “A man who needs three explanations for why he humiliated his wife does not need another chance. He needs accountability.”
