“Same,” I said. “I can’t say Griffin was physically abusive, but he did used to do that thing where he’d pin me down and let drool hang from his mouth over my face and then suck it back in again at the last second. He made armpit noises while I’d practice piano. And he’d leave dead bugs where I’d find them in the bathroom we shared—in the sink, the shower, on the counter by my toothbrush.” “What an asshole.” “I know. It’s amazing he turned into a decent human being. And for what it’s worth, I don’t really think he’d care about . . . what just happened. It’s not like he’d think you were taking
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