"Jesus H Christ on a bicycle," I mutter."Who were you married to?Satan?"
She bursts into laughter, bending over and burying her face in both hands, her shoulders shaking."Yes, Noah.I was, in fact, married to Satan."
"I mean, from what you're telling me, he sounds like the worst person who's ever lived."
She sobers."He wasn't always like that.He changed after the accident.He—he became someone I didn’t recognize.I thought…I thought it would…I thought he would go back.I thought he would get better, that he would heal and go back to the Kevin I knew.He didn’t, at least not when I was with him.He may have changed since, I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t want to.”
"That really sucks," I say."I'm sorry."
She gives me a long, strange look."Y'know, very few people have ever just said, ‘Wow, that sucks.I'm sorry.’Thanks for that."
I blink."What do other people say?"
She shrugs."Weird, stupid, useless shit.They make excuses like it's not his fault, he had a TBI.Well, yeah, I know.But at a certain point, I had to decide what I was willing to keep putting up with.I loved him.I really, really did.I stayed with him.I took care of him.I showed alotof understanding and patience.I'm not trying to pat myself on the back or whatever, I'm just being real.I was a good wife to him after the car accident.I knew that the way he was acting and the things he was saying to me weren't his fault.But day after day, week after week, month after month, it never improved.It got worse.He resented me for reasons I've never understood and he could never adequately explain—and I did give him plenty of chances to try.He just saw me as the enemy, it felt like.I don't know.The accident wasn't my fault, and I was there for him.I showed him so much fucking love, Noah."Her voice shakes."And it wasn't enough.It was never enough.I did so many things for him.Even after he said mean, cruel, horrible things to me, I tried to brush it off as not his fault, it's the TBI talking, blah-blah-blah.But how much was I supposed to take?How long was I supposed to let the man I loved, my husband, treat me worse than garbage?He used to be attracted to me, he used to love me.He really, really did.He was…he wasn't perfect.And it does turn out that he was cheating on me the whole time, so I guess he didn't actually love me all that much, but he at least acted like he did more often than not."
She pauses, eyes downcast.My heart aches for Morgan, seeing the pain still so raw after so long.
"Sorry, it's…it's hard to talk about.I…I haven't discussed this much," she says.
I rest both hands on her knee."I'm here.I'm listening.You can tell me anything and everything."
She bobs her head, swallowing hard.“Yeah."Another long pause."I just got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore.The verbal abuse was one thing, but when I brought our daughter to work to visit him during lunch and found him and his office assistant quite obviously having just fucked on his desk…that was it."
"Ah god.What a shitbag."I can't help myself."The verbal abuse wasn't okay either, Morgan."
"So, what?I was supposed to leave my husband while he was recovering from a life-altering traumatic brain injury because he was mean to me?"She's not angry at me for the question, I don't think, but her response is sharp, snapped.
I shrug."I don't know the answer, Morgan.No one does.I didn't live through that, and I can’t possibly sit here and armchair-quarterback what you should've done.I just know that I can't personally find it in me to excuse the things he’s said to you, for any reason.Plenty of people experience TBIs and don't turn on their loved ones the way Kevin did.I'm not trying to tell you what you should've done, and I'm not judging or criticizing what you did or didn’t do.I'm just saying that it's not okay.It's not fine.It’s not understandable or excusable.I understand being angry and unable to control yourself because your brain is damaged—I can fathom that.I just…Icannotexcuse verbal abuse."I sigh."I'm sorry if I'm out of line for saying that.I just…you're still so obviously hurt by how he treated you.You still hear his voice criticizing you.He did that to you and it makes me angry at him and heartbroken for you."I take her hands, duck my head in an attempt to meet her eyes; her gaze slides away from mine like magnets with the same polarities being pushed toward each other."Morgan."
"What."It's stated flatly.
I cup her chin."Hey.Look at me.Please?"
Her eyes slowly, reluctantly find mine."What, Noah?"A shake of her head, her gaze tripping away again."I don't need or want your pity."
"Pity?What pity?There's sympathy.There's concern.It hurts me to see you hurting.I care about you.But I don't pity you.I'mimpressedby you, Morgan.Amazed.You came through an impossible situation and you've overcome it.You've built a beautiful life for yourself.You've raised a remarkable young woman… on your own.Youdid that, Morgan—no one else."
Again, her eyes hesitantly and reluctantly latch onto mine."You…you really feel that way?"
"Not in the habit of making that kind of thing up," I say.
"Well…thank you.For that, and for being real.For not making excuses or blowing sunshine up my ass."
My mouth runs away from my brain, then."Lotta things I'd like to do with your ass, Morgan, but blowing sunshine up it ain't on the list."
She snorts, splutters, and covers her mouth with the back of her wrist, shoulders shaking."Nice, Noah."
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I slap myself in the forehead and drag my palm down my face."God, I'm sorry.That was crass.I’m sorry."
She regards me with amusement."Why?It was funny.Inappropriate, but funny."She leans toward me."And you know something, Noah?Wecanbe inappropriate with each other."
“Then is it really inappropriate?"I ask.
"Asking the deep philosophical questions," Morgan quips.She leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder."Like what?"
The warmth of her body, the softness of her curves pressing against me…my brain short-circuits and I can't immediately remember what we were talking about."Like what…what?”
She giggles."You said there are plenty of things you'd like to do with my ass."A pause."Like what?"
