She exhales slowly, glancing upward as if seeking solace from the ceiling. “But I do, becauseIpicked him. Chose to marry him.”
“That may be true, but tonight, you stood up to him. I was so proud of you.”
“Really?” Her hands clasp at the hem of her shirt.
“Of course. And I’m not gonna lie…I’ve wanted to knock him down since the first time I met him.” I pat the couch beside me. After a moment of hesitation, she plops down facing me, one leg folded on the couch. Our knees touch.
“The day he hit you with a football?”
“Yep.”
“I saw it happen. The way he treated you, like you were beneath him—like everyone was beneath him, unless they were useful to him. But I chose to ignore it. Made excuses for him.”
I take a breath, my heart pounding as I finally ask the question that’s haunted me for years. “I’m not blaming you one bit when I say this, but whatdidyou see in him, Lee?”
“Ah, the million-dollar question.” She tilts her mouth up on one side. “At first, he was…sweet. We had yearbook together my freshman year. He took it his senior year as an easy A, and he needed as many as he could get since he played football and had to keep up his GPA.” Somewhere outside, there’s a ringing like wind chimes sighing. “Back then, I was super insecure. I always knew I was flighty, kind of a mess. Someone who didn’t use her brain enough.”
The pain in her voice stabs me. “Why did you think that? Because for the record, I think you’re amazing—smart, talented, and much more than you give yourself credit for.”
A faint smile flickers on her lips, like a sunrise breaking through the clouds. “You always know how to boost my ego.”
“That’s my specialty.” I wink, trying to lighten the moment, but the heaviness still lingers between us.
Marilee chuckles softly, then her fingers drift to the fabric of her pants, tracing a zigzag pattern as if trying to ground herself. “I remember when I was in junior high, helping my dad wash his sports car. I was so excited, because he never trusted anyone with his baby. But then I sprayed the hose all over the car with the top down.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah. My dad rushed out, bucket in hand, and yelled at me. He said I had no sense in my brain and that he couldn’t trust me with anything important again.”
“Geez, Lee. That’s terrible.” Mr. Moffitt was a tough man—someone who loved his work and loved his wife but was really hard on his kids—but I had no idea his words had left such scars on Marilee. “Surely he apologized later.”
“Did you ever know my dad to apologize for anything?”
“Good point.”
She shifts, her tone growing contemplative again. “There was that, not to mention the fact that Blake’s brilliant and always got high marks in school when I was a solid C student. So I went into high school with my self-esteem already crumpled. The only thing I was ever good at was baking, but I wanted to show my dad there was more to me than that. Unfortunately, he just never really seemed to see it.” Marilee shrugs. “Then I met Donny, and he was this big football star—like a knight in shining armor. I was in awe, and my dad… It was like he finally approved of me.”
Ugh, I hate that for her. “Donny definitely put on a good act.” For others, anyway. I always saw him for exactly who he was, but I think that’s because he wanted me to. He didn’t care about hiding from me, because he never really saw me as a threat to what he wanted. “Most narcissists do.”
“But you’d think after a while, I’d see through the facade. I saw cracks occasionally, but I wrote them off. He was the great Donny Franklin, and I was just…me. Out of all the girls, he wantedme.”
“Like that’s so hard to believe?”
I want to blurt out thatIwanted her the moment I first saw her. But tonight isn’t about my confessions. It’s about her, and I have this feeling she needs to get it all out. She needs to come full circle with her emotions and realize that this was not her fault.
A sigh slips from her lips, heavy with regret. “I ignored the signs. I got so tangled up that I didn’t know who I’d be without him. And I was scared to find out.”
My heart clenches at her tone, so vulnerable and defeated. “Lee, I know I’ve asked this before, but…he never hit you, did he?”
“No. And that’s the thing. He wasn’t outright abusive. He just made me feel…less than.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, fighting back tears. “When I miscarried over and over again, he joked that I was defective. Said nobody else would put up with my mess, with my broken pieces, the way he did.”
“That absolute piece of—” I trail off, biting the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. I shift closer, unable to restrain my desire to comfort her. “You know it’s not true, right, Lee? He said that to feel powerful becausehewas weak.”
She wipes away a tear, shaking her head, and the sight shatters me. “I believed him, though. I still kind of do sometimes. I thought I deserved the pain, like I was being punished for not leaving him sooner. No children should grow up in a household like that. So it felt like…feels like…my fault—every bit of it.”
A fresh wave of tears spills down her face, and I’ll be darned if I let her suffer alone. I surge forward, pulling her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her like a fortress. “No, Marilee. You did NOT deserve any of that. Not one bit. And if you believe anything he said, you’re just allowing him to win.”
She clings to me, soaking my shirt with tears. After a moment, her breathing slows and she shudders. “You’re right.” Pulling back, she looks me in the eyes, her arms still draped around my neck. With trembling fingers, she runs her palm down my cheek, a touch that sends shivers coursing through me. “You’ve always been right, Jordan. I should have left him when you begged me to, but I was too scared.”