“I’m not Richard’s understudy,” I said. “I’m not going to step in and play his part now that he’s left the stage. That’s not what I want.” “I don’t want that either. That’s exactly what I don’t want. Jesus, Oliver.” Her eyes were hard—green bottle glass, sharp-edged and brittle. “Richard and I were done,” she said. “He was a bastard and a bully to me and everyone else and I was done with him. I know nobody wants to remember that now that he’s gone, but you should.”
People keep pinning Meredith as some temptress harlot and it’s so fucked up. The misogynist undertones is sickening.
