He was, in a word, disgusting. There was no hiding the sociopathy in his eyes. While his face was some combination of privileged prep school rapist and inbred, backwoods criminal, his disturbing looks were equally matched by the ugliness of his overt racism, class-born sexism, general belligerent narcissism, utter lack of maturity, and insatiable greed. His entire presence was off-putting on sight to anyone not in tune with his disease. And he accentuated all of it with attire fit for a spoiled kindergartner. There was nothing good in this man—nothing attractive, nothing worthwhile, nothing redeeming. He was an anthropomorphization of everything inhuman, if that were possible. Yet, as narcissists are able to, he strutted his way through life, coddled by his family’s wealth, and wormed his way into religion, as that institution is often prey to conmen posing as saints, becoming the almost stereotypical, hate-filled, heretical Evangelical, as far from Christ as the inside of a blackhole from the sun. Oh, he pretended that he was not a pig, a racist, as those like him often did, by associating with minorities individually while condemning them as a group, and the proof of that was in his very words, which he posted without reservation, along with his other decidedly anti-Christian, antisocial personality disordered-beliefs, for all to see. The man was scum, by breeding as much as by inherent constitution. He was the definition of ugly, inside and out. 

So, when accusations were whispered that she had married him for status and money, it would have behooved her no end not to deny it, claiming youthful naivete and greed-spawned blindness. She should have convinced herself that her offspring had emerged from her body of their own accord, asexually, thereby mentally washing herself clean of the soul-tainted touch of the foul demon she had let herself be fooled by. She should have openly claimed selfishness, because he was so psychologically wretched and physically horrible-looking that claiming stupidity or ignorance was impossible to believe. She had known what he was. There was no question. The alternative was self-incrimination, an admission that she had found his impossible-to-conceal hideousness irresistible, his racist jokes mesmerizing, his imbecility stimulating, his misogyny sexually attractive, and his open heresy exciting. In short, she would have to admit that she was as bad as or worse than he, that she loved filth and was a degenerate, rejecting every mammalian instinct and fouling the species with more of him by her own free will. No, she should have readily confessed that all she had thought of was his rich family and the prospect for a cushy life as his self-debasing paramour. 

The only trouble with that was that she appeared to be intent upon repeating her mistake, which made it appear less an error and more her very nature. She had known how despicable and grotesque this man really was, and liked it, so it was difficult to defend the continued pursuance of men just like him, as ugly, as foul, with the same unearned cushion of money that had led her to him, unless that is what she was. And she had done other things that tacitly stated that she simply preferred the disgusting to anything halfway normal, things for which she would neither confess nor remedy. She, like him, professed belief but, like him, did not follow it in anything but name only, using it as a personal excuse to be horrible. She had continued to be phony in her interactions with others. She did not appear to have self-corrected at all, not only excusing the deranged psycho she told everyone had hurt her, but seeking another with the same characteristics. And, though no one called her on it, her obsession sent a very clear message—she was just like him— and she made no effort to change, though she likely tried to convince herself that she had while behaving as she always had. 

As the years passed, her refusal to truly turn over a new leaf, her desire for ugliness, and the ugliness within her that she would not purge herself of, felt no compunction whatsoever to, began to physically alter her, making her as ugly as him. But in lieu of freeing herself from her illness, she embraced it more tightly. She had chosen the devil, and she had liked it. Now she would descend.