When We Were Bright and Beautiful(81)

Again, she blushes deep red. But this time, I am moved by her honesty. Diana Holly has become real to me, and I see the girl I liked when we first met.

“Billy is handsome and smart. And way out of my league. He’s also charming and seductive. Truth be told, I got seduced by his looks, by his money, by all of it. Then, as I got to know him, and saw he wasn’t perfect, we became incredibly close. I couldn’t bear to be apart from him, even for a day.”

“But there were problems?”

“Yes. Billy is troubled, emotionally, I mean. Everyone has issues, of course, but Billy’s problems were deeper and more dangerous than I first realized. They affected every aspect of his life, including our relationship.”

“What kinds of issues?”

Diana looks at her hands. “Anger issues, drugs—marijuana mostly.”

I glance at Billy. Though he appears relaxed, I can tell from the line of his shoulders that it’s taking every ounce of his strength not to react.

“Pornography,” Anderson says. Though it’s not a question, no one objects.

When Diana nods, a lock of hair falls in her face, and she tucks it behind one ear. “Yes. But the problem wasn’t just drugs or porn. It was quantity and intensity. Billy gets stoned every day. Same with porn. Billy watches a lot. It seemed normal at first, at least for a college-aged guy. But by July, I realized he was hiding how often he watched.”

“How so?”

“He’s on his devices all day. But if I so much as glanced at his screen, he’d scramble to close it. He wasn’t always fast enough. I saw people having sex, orgies or whatever. Other times, it was the opposite. He’d stare at his computer with his eyes glazed over, completely unaware of my presence. It was creepy and unsettling.”

“So what did you do?”

Diana shakes her head. Her eyes fill with tears. Anderson waits.

“Nothing,” she whispers. “I was insecure, and so grateful he liked me. I was afraid if I said anything, he’d break up with me.”

“You just let it go?”

“I tried to talk to him about it once, but he told me to mind my own business and I stopped bringing it up. But when school started, I told him he needed counseling and we should spend time apart.”

“And what was the defendant’s reaction?”

“Billy has a temper. When it’s triggered, he lashes out.”

Anderson refers to Exhibit A-19, the dorm room wall with fist-sized holes. “Like this?” He places the photo on an easel. “Did the defendant do this? Did he make these holes in reaction to you saying you wanted to break up?”

“Yes, he punched the wall.”

“How else did pornography affect your relationship? Was it just the fact that he hid how often he watched? Did you distrust him? Or was there more to it?”

“No . . . I mean, yes, he was untrustworthy. But when I confronted him, and he stopped sneaking around, it got worse. Porn permeated our relationship. Billy also . . .” Diana stumbles. “He can’t maintain an erection unless he’s watching, so he positioned his computer next to the bed. He watched videos while we . . . uh . . . made love. It was humiliating. I was sure it was my fault. I wasn’t pretty or sexy enough. I figured if he needed porn because of a deficiency in me, then I had no right to ask him to stop. I was ashamed. I am ashamed. I didn’t think I deserved better . . . I just . . .” She starts to cry. “It was unbearable.”

Anderson asks if she needs a break.

“No. I want to finish.” She gathers herself. “By November, I realized Billy’s problem was bigger than me. Or rather, had nothing to do with me. Like any addictive behavior, it was compulsive. He couldn’t stop.”

“What happened?”

“We were at his parents’ home in New York.”

“You got along well with his family?”

“I thought so. I only met them a couple of times. They were very gracious. But I was intimidated, the same way I was with Billy in the beginning. His mother and sister are so glamorous. Cassie was extra nice. I could tell she was anxious to be close to him again. That night she drove all the way from New Haven just for dinner.”

On this point, Diana is correct. I drove home because I was curious about her and Billy. According to Lawrence, she was clingy and they might be breaking up. So I wanted to see if my brother and I could be friends again. I also planned to have a stern talk with Lawrence about his own clinginess. His constant texts and calls were driving me up the wall.

“Billy was agitated that night,” Diana continues. “We were in the den, having a drink before dinner, and he kept jumping up to use the bathroom. At first I thought Cassie was making him uncomfortable. I knew—well, Billy had told me—that everyone gets tense when she’s home. Then I realized he was sneaking off to watch porn. It was like a light bulb went on. In that moment, I understood he was an addict, it wasn’t my fault, and we’d both be happier if we broke up for good.”

Wait, no! That’s not true. Billy never got up—not once. And I remember this because, like Diana, I was tracking his every move. I watched him come into the house and take off his coat; I waited for him to hug me. Instead, he brushed by me, and guided Diana down the hall. “Billy!” I called out. “No hello?” Diana said hi, but he kept walking, tossing off, “Oh, hey, Cassie,” over his shoulder. Later, we were in the den: Billy, Diana, Eleanor, and me. Billy was being very cold, and I tried to make conversation, but he barely acknowledged me. So I went to find Lawrence, who was in the celebration room, and let him know Billy and Diana had arrived. When I walked out, I ran into Diana, who’d been peering into random rooms, gawking at their size. She was holding a vase, but upside-down as if checking for a manufacturing label. “I’m sorry,” she said, startled. “I didn’t know you were here.” I didn’t care about the vase, but I was stung by Billy’s shitty treatment. I made a nasty crack, and I think Diana was embarrassed because she wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating then rushed off. When I got back to the den, she was tugging on Billy’s hand. “Babe, I don’t feel well. Babe? Do you mind if we head out early? Babe?” The whole thing was fucked-up and rude.