Chapter 4 Giving Him A Taste Of His Own Medicine

• The restaurant where Evaline and I had dinner was quite a distance from the police station. By the time I arrived, Leonard had already been waiting for a while. As soon as I pushed the door open, he rushed toward me, clearly ready for a confrontation.
• Unfortunately for him, I acted first. My hand struck his face with a resounding slap before he could say a word.
• The sharp sound silenced the room, drawing everyone's attention. Leonard stood frozen, his expression a mixture of shock and humiliation.
• “How dare you call yourself a father? I told you to pick up Jonah! Why didn't you go?” I seethed, my voice cold and cutting. “Thank God he's all right. If anything had happened to him, I'd have come for your throat.”
• “Y-You hit me?” Leonard stammered, his disbelief evident. He had grown so used to my accommodating demeanor that he was caught completely off guard. His hand rose reflexively, but a nearby police officer intervened before he could retaliate.
• “Did I wrong you by slapping you?” I glared at him. “You're always whining about the 'burden' of supporting this family. Out of pity for you, I decided to find a job to share the load. And what do you do? Lose our son in one day. That slap was a kindness, considering. Tell me, Leonard, what good are you? What makes you different from a loser?”
• Leonard's face flushed deep red, and for the first time in years, I felt a twinge of satisfaction. After enduring his manipulative ways for so long, it felt good to finally give him a taste of his own medicine.
• Of course, we were at the police station, and the officers didn't let us carry on for long. They stepped in, gave us both a stern talking-to, and waited for us to cool down before letting Leonard and me take Jonah home.
• Once back, Leonard stormed straight into the bedroom without a word. Jonah tossed his backpack onto the couch and called out, “Hey, I'm hungry. Go make dinner.”
• I ignored him and sat down, scrolling through videos on my phone.
• “Hey! I'm talking to you,” Jonah snapped, his voice louder now. He marched over and shoved me, sending my phone tumbling to the floor with a dull thud.
• I picked it up calmly, barely glancing at him, and moved to another spot to continue watching. Undeterred, Jonah tried to snatch the phone out of my hands. I pushed him away, and he stumbled, landing hard on the floor. He stared at me in stunned silence.
• It was the first time I had ever physically reacted to him. Seeing my cold expression, he seemed to finally realize I was serious. His tone softened. “Mom...”
• “Don't call me that just yet,” I said, exiting the video and turning to face him. “Tell me, who taught you to call the police?”
• Jonah's face flickered with unease, a clear giveaway.
• “Your dad, right?” I continued, piecing it together. “He told you to call the police if I didn't show up. That no matter what I was doing, I had to come pick you up. Then, the two of you would 'win'. Isn't that right?”
• Jonah didn't deny it. Instead, he muttered quietly, “It's your fault for not picking me up.”
• I let out an exasperated laugh. “Great. Just great.”
• I strode to the bedroom door where Leonard had locked himself inside. I knocked. “Come out. We need to talk.”
• Silence. I knocked again, louder this time. “I said, come out!”
• There was still no response.
• Well, that was expected, considering his knack for emotional neglect.
• I glanced around the room and spotted a sturdy wooden chair by the dining table. Without hesitation, I grabbed it, took a deep breath, and slammed it against the door. The door shuddered violently under the impact.
• Startled by the noise, Jonah bolted to his own room and slammed the door shut. Finally, Leonard's voice came from behind the locked door. “Juliette, have you lost your mind?”
• Ignoring the throbbing ache in my arm, I spoke calmly. “You have two choices—either come out now, or I break this door down.”
• The door flew open, revealing a furious Leonard. He jabbed a finger in my face. “You're insane! Making this kind of racket in the middle of the night!”
• “Take that finger out of my face,” I said icily. “Point it at me again, and I'll chop it off.”
• Something in my expression unnerved him, and he lowered his hand reluctantly.
• Some people are just pathetic. He shrinks at the slightest hint of pushback.