Page 53 of The Space He Left
Mrs. Patterson watched my face as I read. "Terrible thing, lying about cancer. And apparently not the first time she's done it. The poor man in the small town they mentioned - that was you, wasn't it, dear?"
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Seeing it laid out so clinically, seeing Madison's pattern described by someone who'd never met me but recognized the same manipulation tactics, was both validating and horrifying.
"How do you feel about it?" Mrs. Patterson asked gently.
I thought about that question. Six months ago, seeing Madison exposed like this might have made me feel vindicated.Now, reading about her continued lies and victim-playing, I felt something simpler and cleaner.
"Relieved," I said finally. "Relieved that other people can see what I couldn't. Relieved that this Dave guy was smart enough to listen to his family."
"You don't feel sorry for her?"
"I feel sorry for the person she could have been if she'd gotten help instead of choosing to hurt people. But no, I don't feel sorry for the person she chose to become."
Mrs. Patterson nodded approvingly. "That's growth, Jack. Back when all that mess happened, I think you would have found some way to make excuses for her behavior."
She was right. The old Jack would have focused on Madison's pain, would have found ways to rationalize her actions, would have felt guilty for being angry at someone who was clearly struggling. This Jack could acknowledge that Madison was damaged while still holding her accountable for the damage she'd caused others. But even then, Madison wasn't responsible for the choices I made; that was all on me. I fucked up. My responsibility, and mine alone.
"I have to admit," Mrs. Patterson continued, "when you were running off to help her all the time, some of us wondered if her story added up. She never looked sick when anyone saw her. But of course, we didn't want to question someone's medical situation..."
The comments on the Reddit post were supportive of the family and brutal toward Madison. People shared similar stories of manipulation, others praised Sarah for protecting her brother, and many expressed disgust at Madison's exploitation of cancer for sympathy.
But what struck me most was how clinical and factual the post was. No drama, no emotion, just a clear explanation of Madison's pattern and the evidence that exposed her. It mademy situation feel less personal, less shameful. I hadn't been uniquely stupid - I'd been targeted by someone skilled at this particular kind of manipulation. But that didn't change the fact that I had been a fool for falling for it, especially when everyone around me had seen it and tried to point it out to me.
"The granddaughter who got you started on Reddit sounds smart," I said, handing back the iPad.
"Oh, she is. Keeps telling me I need to 'get with the times.' Apparently, there are whole communities of people sharing stories and supporting each other through all sorts of situations. Well," Mrs. Patterson said, gently taking back her iPad, "I suppose people always get what's coming to them eventually."
That evening, back at the apartment above The Copper Fox, I found Sam reading the same article on his phone.
"Saw the news about the viper," he said without looking up. "Karma's a bitch, huh?"
"I guess." I sat down across from him. "Honestly? I don't feel anything."
Sam finally looked up, his expression a mask of disbelief. "Nothing? Jack, she destroyed your marriage. She made you miss Emma's birth. She—"
"No." The word was quiet but absolute, and it stopped him cold. I met his gaze without flinching. "She didn't do that, Sam. I did. I destroyed my marriage. I missed Emma's birth. She lied, but every single decision after that lie was mine."
A slow grin spread across Sam's face. He leaned back in his chair, the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked at me with a new kind of respect. "Okay," he said, the single word carrying a weight of approval. "Just wanted to be sure you knew that."
"I know it," I confirmed. "And as for her... reading that post, it's like reading about a stranger. There's no hate, no sadness. Just... nothing. She's not my problem anymore. My fuck-ups are."
Sam nodded, the grin softening into something more genuine. "You know what this is, right? This... lack of a reaction to her, and taking all the blame yourself?"
"What?"
"It's growth, man. Real growth. Six months ago, you would have either celebrated her downfall or secretly blamed her for everything. Now... you're just holding yourself accountable. That's the real win."
I thought about that. He was right. There was no pull, no emotional charge at all when it came to Madison. My focus was entirely on my actions and their consequences.
"Dr. Cox says true healing isn't forgiveness, it's indifference," I said. "It's when the person who hurt you no longer has any hold on your emotions, and you're left to deal with your own shit."
"Look at you, quoting your therapist and taking responsibility. Who are you and what have you done with Jack Henderson?" Sam's teasing tone was back, but this time, it was warm. It sounded like pride.
Despite everything, I smiled. "Therapy's actually helping. I understand why I made the choices I made."
"And?"
"And I'm learning to make different choices. Like not rushing to Harper's house to tell her about Madison getting exposed. Six months ago, I would have driven straight there, thinking this news would somehow fix everything between us."
