The Confrontation & Resolution

My dad was on the subway, heading home from his part-time teaching gig, when some woman accused him of taking upskirt photos. Just like that, his life went to hell.

They were shoving each other, arguing loud enough for half the car to stare. Next thing I knew, my old man had fallen. He hit his head hard. They rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late.

I was a mess, devastated. My husband, Mark, was nowhere to be found. He’d bailed right when I needed him most.

Later, I sued the woman for slander and involuntary manslaughter. Imagine my surprise when Mark, who I hadn’t seen in months, shows up in court, sitting at the defense table, her lawyer. He argued she acted in self-defense, that my father was the aggressor.

…

The next time I saw Mark was in that courtroom. It was like a bad movie. He was wearing his lawyer’s robes, all righteous, sitting right next to her. He wouldn't even look my way, probably feeling guilty as hell.

My co-worker, Sarah, caught sight of him and raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't that Mark? What's he doing...?"

"Sarah…"

She shut up real fast when she saw the look on my face.

My eyes were burning, and my hands were clenched so tight I could feel my nails digging into my palms.

The irony was brutal. My husband, a lawyer, defending the woman who’d basically killed my father?

The pain actually helped me snap out of it. I turned to my team, and said, my voice cold, "Get ready. It's time to go."

"We’re probably gonna lose this one, Liz."

About a month before all this, my dad got this part-time teaching job at the local community college after retiring. He was on his way home on the subway, checking his phone, when this woman, Tiffany, accused him of taking pictures under her skirt.

My dad told her she was out of her mind. He even showed her his photo album to prove it, but she wouldn't let it go. She and her friends were demanding money from him.

They shoved him around, he lost his footing, and his head slammed on the floor. He was dead before the week was out.

And Mark? My husband? He’s been MIA since the funeral. He ghosts me for a month, then bam – he’s defending Tiffany.

I figured it was bad enough to represent the woman who killed my dad, but no, he takes it a step further, calling her actions self-defense!

Mark played the video evidence.

This woman, Tiffany, is crying crocodile tears.

"He was pointing his phone at me... he was doing that to me...!"

The camera zooms in on a white stain on her flowery dress. They zoom in on my dad's fly and yeah…you know where this is going.

Then, there’s subway surveillance footage, showing my dad being hassled and pushed. You see him stumble as he exits the train and crack his head on the ground. Blood was everywhere.

I’ve seen these videos so many times that I could tell you every single pixel. They tear me up inside, but Mark's words were a fresh new kind of torture.

"My client, after experiencing a perverted act, made some aggressive moves. This falls under the umbr...