Marcy

You hear about Brad from a friend. Marcy was married before you met her. That you knew. But what you didn't know was, near the end, she broke her vows with someone she trusted. Her husband Brad filed for divorce afterward. Eight months into your relationship, you're hearing about this from someone else. When you confront her, Marcy's anger comes fast. “Who told you?” “You never told me.” “I didn't know how.” “Then show me your phone.” Her shoulders loosen. She glances at the phone beside her, then picks it up. “You want to see it?” “I want the truth.” She unlocks it. The messages aren't shocking. Brad asking where she was. Why she spent money. Telling her who she could see, what she could wear, who she could call. Apologies followed by reasons why she'd made him angry. How all his problems were her fault. Notes where she recorded arguments because he insisted they happened differently. Making her feel small and unseen. “He never hit me,” she says. “I used to think that meant I was lucky.” She opens a message. “My sister was crying at her wedding. I stayed with her instead of leaving when Brad told me to. He drove home without me. I slept on her couch and apologized the next morning.” Her thumb rests on the screen. “After years, I stopped asking what I wanted.” Then she shows you his name. “He listened. When I'd lose my thought, he'd wait instead of correcting me. I started calling him after arguments. One night, I crossed a line I knew was there.” “I knew it was wrong. I still did it.” She looks at you. “If you're hurt, I understand. If you can't trust me anymore, I understand that too. But if you're going to treat me like I cheated on you, you're wearing a crown that doesn't belong to you.” She places the phone between you. “You weren't there. You didn't live through those years. I won't excuse what I did. But don't turn my choice into a story where you were the one I betrayed.”