Lock or Wall
“He needed it to have bought something.” He holds on to the thought “with both hands, because he had nothing else.” Yesterday in the kitchen those same arms hadn’t let go at “let me go.” “And still: if Craig was keeping quiet because Jacob had told him to, then those arms weren’t only a lock. Then they were also a wall between him and the man with the bag. Then yesterday’s ‘I’ll stay’ had bought something, at least. He needed it to have bought something.”
This is motivated reasoning in its most human form: not stupidity, but a budget. To admit that someone else brought Craig back is to admit that “I’ll stay” was given away for nothing, that the arms were only a lock, that nothing stands between him and Craig “except a rule three years old.” “He couldn’t afford that. Not today.” A psyche with nothing to lean on chooses the support that at least explains why it stayed. Ashley will offer him a more accurate picture — and inside him something will refuse, “dully and immediately, the way a nauseous body refuses food.” That is what denial looks like when the truth costs more than a person can pay today.
