They cast him as not morally culpable. He was, the article
states, “over-achieving” and his responsibilities “mushroomed” so much that “his
inability to cope was inevitable.” When I read this, well, all I could do was
think about writing it down. It doesn’t hurt anymore, surprisingly. It doesn’t
hurt me because I’m into a whole other set of hurts in a second marriage, but
it still rankles. I was married by that man, it was, now in retrospect, a
fraudulent marriage, and my ex-husband’s brother-in-law is defending that man,
as he defended my husband, in court. The brother-in-law lawyer, larger than
life, known for his hair as much as his work, thinks he’s championing the
little guy, casts himself as the true defender, but mucks about in people’s
lives without conscience himself. My ex’s whole family was like that, truly
gothic in tone, and there I was, pregnant, and caught in the middle of it.
***
That's the beginning of my new story, based on today's headline. I mean, really, how can I not write about it and all its parallels?
Time is a strange healer. It was always offered up these quite public stories that have confirmed that I was right in my judgement all along . . . accurate in my moral compass . . . though it tends not to agree with the media evaluation, the media scrutiny reveals what it cannot know.
So, here I am, almost now 7 years on . . . and still sifting through wreckage.
Anyway, that's love, right?
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