Page 46 of The Ex Effect
But our relationship was so much more than our age.Deeper somehow, and even as an adult, I’d still never had that same connection with anyone.
I crunched into the sandwich, which now tasted flat and dry. Back then, had I thought Frankie was serious about moving to New York, I would’ve listened more. Clearly, with how blindsided I was at graduation, I’d never thought Frankie truly meant she was leaving.
You know what? Screw her.She was doing that thing again—completely altering our past to fit her narrative—and I was so freaking done. “You were never serious, Frankie. Everything was a joke to you. Why would I have believed you? You always said the most off-the-wall shit.”How can she possibly be putting this on me? That I didn’t respect her dreams?“I couldn’t believe half the stuff that left your mouth.”
Frankie’s mouth dropped and an angry red strip flew up her neck.
Standing in our graduation gowns that day, I remembered the heated pavement soaking into my feet as tears streamed each of our cheeks. Frankie bawling, wiping her nose on her sleeve, her fingers folded as she pleaded, “Please, Morgan, please come with. Just for a year. If we hate it, we can come back. I need to get out of here. Out of this town, out from my parents, I need to go free.” Frankie was a caged bird, needing to fly, and I was the net that trapped her in this town.
But I had wanted to go to UMD since I was little. And up until that day, I swore Frankie wanted the same. I stared at Frankie, who leaned back under the cedar tree. “I wanted you to come with me to college.”So bad.God, I would have done anything to have Frankie go with me to school. Entering a world like that, alone, had terrified me. The plans I had until that point crashed and burned in a snap, and it wasn’t fair.
“I never wanted that.” Frankie tossed her sandwich to the side. “I didn’t even have the grades to get in, and you just wouldn’t believe it. You just didn’t listen.”
That’s not true. “But you got in!”
Frankie released a heavy breath. “No, I didn’t.”
What? No…this is a lie. There could be variations of the truth, different perspectives, different interpretations of a situation for sure. But right now, Frankie was full-on gaslighting me, lying to my face. I specifically remembered celebrating our acceptance. We even splurged and went into Duluth to an Olive Garden. “Why are you even saying this? Irememberyou getting in. I didn’t make that up.”
Anger filled Frankie’s face and she pulled her lips into a tight line. “How the hell did you think I got in? I was pulling a C averageat best, and even now I’m pretty sure the only reason I got those grades was because Coach went to bat on my behalf.”
“But…but youtoldme you did.”
Frankie’s head dropped. The flex in her forearms softened, and she exhaled. “I know I did. I lied, okay? But…you wouldn’t listen. Ever. I finally just told you what you wanted to hear so you’d leave it alone.” She lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Christ, Morgan. It has always been about you. I told you college life was never for me. Sitting in another classroom for four more years was like a prison sentence. College wasyourdream, had always been your dream. Never mine.”
Unbelievable. How dare she continue to put this back on me? Frankie had lied and just admitted it. Which was not the first time she did that in our relationship. Frankie always said some sort of “white lie,” something harmless, and she’d later fess up. But over the years it created a distrusting wall. And now she was blaming me. I wasdone. “Well, at least my dream didn’t constitute traipsing around a huge city with no money, no family, and no education.”
And, well, those words hit down like the hammer I intended.Shit.
Frankie pushed herself up, her face on fire. “Ithink you’re just pissed that you stayed here, stuck, and never got out. You’re thirty-three fucking years old having the same conversations with the same people, picking through the same women that were available back then. You are so goddamn stubborn, you know that? And for what? Are you actually happy? Because it sure as shit doesn’t seem so.”
Frankie stormed into the barn and a minute later the screech of the table saw fired to life.
And I sat there, furious. I refused to let her change history.
But I had no idea what I was going to do about it.
TWENTY-ONE
FRANKIE
Did I even fall asleep last night? I blinked at the ceiling, my eyes crusty and on fire. Yesterday, the blowup with Morgan was the very last thing I wanted, and I’d felt sick about it since.
With how heated both Morgan and I were yesterday, the timing was not right to explain the correlation between ADHD and lying. For so many years, I had just thought I was a bad person. I used to hate myself for lying, and every time it happened, a shame spiral sucked me in so deep, I could never dig myself out.
The compulsion to lie was still there, lingering beneath the surface. I was just more medicated, mature, had gone through enough cognitive behavior sessions to learn how to control it. Back then, when I lied, it was like a mosquito landed on my arm and I slapped it. Quick, without thought, without regard. But then, to keep the itch away, I had to keep lying. Even when I knew I was lying, I was so invested, like my brain and body were pedaling, pushing me downhill, and I couldn’t slow down.
As I moved into the kitchen, then crunched into my granola cereal, I remembered my therapist saying ADHD could be a gift. I had thought,Yep, what a scam. This is exactly why I don’tdo therapy.But over the years, I understood. My body needed to move, and finding an art that I loved that allowed me to move provided more happiness than I could’ve dreamed. I needed a job with bite-size pieces, but, man, when those periods of hyperfocus hit, I was invincible.
If the teachers back then would’ve listened instead of scolding me when I panicked that my limbs were locking up and I needed to get up and sharpen a pencil, go to the bathroom, or grab a Kleenex, who knows what would have happened? Maybe I’d rule the world by now.
But blaming this on Morgan last night? Unforgivable. The knee-jerk reaction was decades of built-up self-loathing, anger of a lifetime of not being listened to, and years of holding guilt that I never really, actually sat Morgan down properly and told her I was leaving for New York.
Sure, I said it a million different ways, a million different times. But did I ever, until graduation night, make Morgan listen? I should’ve tried harder. And the guilt of leaving Morgan sobbing in the parking lot, even knowing it was the best thing for my own life, prevented me from reaching out.
I drove down Main Street to the floral shop. Although Morgan and I basically avoided each other for the rest of the night, we did leave with a cordial enough “good night.” Hopefully today would be less awkward than last night. No matter how hard it was going to be, Ihadto apologize.
Andmaybe, perhaps, if the timing seemed right, tell Morgan the truth—that I was falling back in love with her, moment by moment, day by day. But leaving again would tear me apart, and I couldn’t do it to myself, or to her. So, I’d bury my feelings, to protect myself and protect her.
