There is much more to this story than is recorded here. Maybe one day I’ll tell it all. Or not. It’s not really that great of a story. It’s full of pain and doubt.

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The phone was ringing and I didn’t want to answer it. He hadn’t called me for over a year; why should I want to talk to him now? Swallowing my fear, I flipped the phone open. “Hello?” I asked hesitantly, trying not to panic. The last time I had spoken to him, it was to tell him I never wanted to see him again.

“Hey. It’s Brian.”

I closed my eyes, breathing unsteadily as I searched for any words to say to him. “Why are you calling me?” I finally managed. My voice was thick with the fear of his answer.

“I just wanted to let you know, that after we split up, I started going to church, and I’m getting baptized this Sunday.”

This was not what I expected him to say. These were the last words I ever thought would come out of his mouth. “Oh,” I stated flatly. His words untangled the knot of memories I had from our year and half of on-again, off-again romance. Had he ever shown any interest in church when we were together? What had made him change his mind about faith?

He didn’t give me much time to say anything else before he continued. “I want to give you back the money that I took from you. I’ve been thinking about how to make amends for a lot of the things I did, and this is something I can do to try to make it right. Can I mail you a check?”

My mind jumped back to the previous year—to the days long fight we had over a $500 gift he had given me. He had demanded that I pay him for it, claiming he had only purchased it for me because he thought we had decided to stay together. I drove to his apartment and tried to shove a wad a cash into his hand, but he didn’t take it. He was angry with me for manipulating him, telling me to leave and not to call him. It hadn’t ended there, though. He harassed me for days after the incident.

“Just give him the money and be done with it,” my mom said. With her encouragement, I asked Brian to come to my house, and after giving him 25 crisp $20 bills, I made him sign a statement that I didn’t owe him anything else. The next day he agreed to give me half of the money back because I had been so angry about it. As terrible as the relationship had been, he wasn’t a complete monster, not even then.

And not now either.

“Can you mail it to my parents’ house?” I asked tenderly. I did not want to give him my address. The wounds were too deep.

“I can do that.” He paused. “I’m really sorry for everything that happened.”

“I know.” It was nearly a whisper. I still couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. “Thank you.”

“I won’t call you again,” he promised.

“Okay.”

He hung up.

               I flipped the phone closed and cried.

               It had been good in the beginning. He was charming and funny. He had a “real” job. He was sweet with me. Most importantly he was smart. For reasons I came to understand later, he had learned how to be clever, how to be as smooth as honey, and how to give a person whatever they wanted. It was his learned survival skills, but at first, I thought it was meant just for me.

               “I like you because you’re different,” he told me the night of our second date. “I told my roommate I wanted a nice girl. A church girl.” He smiled at me. “And not a blonde.”

               He knew exactly how to fill me up, which is why I had so much trouble breaking away.

               He’s not good for you. Melissa’s text message glared at me in the darkness of my bedroom. It felt like the place I went to hibernate, to forget that I was trapped. Only I never slept long enough to have the strength to free myself.

               I don’t know what to do, I wrote back. I could feel the tears coming. My eyes were already red and sore from crying. I don’t know how to get rid of him. I still love him.

               For months, Brian and I had been on rocky ground. I had learned to tell the difference between his charm and his manipulation. In between stroking my ego, he belittled and dismissed me. His promises to be better never came to fruition. I was tired, and he was killing me.

               What about Aaron?

               Aaron. He had tried to pull me out of the relationship. Brian didn’t like him, despite never having met him. Aaron was a threat in his mind. I don’t want to leave him for someone else. I knew the excuse was weak. I wanted more than anything for Aaron to scoop me up and carry me away.

               But you don’t want to stay with him either. Melissa’s words were an echo of my own thoughts.

               I pulled the covers up higher around my neck, seeking comfort where I could get it. I didn’t stay with Brian because I needed him. I stayed because he needed me. Without me, how would he ever become the person I knew he could become?

               I used to pray that God would use me to bring someone to faith. Melissa would know this was not a non-sequitur. We had talked of this before. She was one of the only ones who knew.

               But what is it costing you?

               I thought about her words. What was it costing me? My happiness, surely. My sanity, possibly. But I still had my faith that it would somehow all be worth it. That one day, he would see there was a different way to live, and he would turn his eyes to something greater than him. Something divine. Then, our relationship would become possible; he’d become everything I wanted.

               Melissa didn’t wait for a reply. It’s not your job to save him.

               It wasn’t, but I still wanted to.

               I pulled up to his apartment slowly, sitting in the car for a moment before turning it off. I was wearing the ring Brian had given me the week before. Not an engagement ring. He didn’t give it to me with any promises. He hadn’t asked for anything in return.

We had been on the way to buy him a stereo for his truck, and the piece of jewelry caught my eye. It was an emerald cut swiss blue topaz ring, with diamonds on the sides, wrapping up and over the corners of the stone. He watched me as I stared at it.

“Do you want to try that on?” he asked.

His slick smirk melted away the dozens of reasons why I should not be at the mall with him, especially not looking at jewelry. “No,” I lied.

He took me into the jeweler almost against my will. The sales rep pulled the ring from the case and handed it to me. It slipped on my finger as if it was made for me.

“It fits,” the woman said. Her smile was almost as bright as her eyes. Her expression was genuinely happy, not hungry like Brian’s.

I wanted it, but I imagined there would be consequences. I took it off my finger and handed it back to the sale associate.

“Go ahead and box that up for her,” Brian said.

I snapped my head around to stare at him in disbelief. “You were gonna spend that money on your stereo,” I argued.

“It’s my money. I can do what I want with it,” he answered.

He had used it to hook me again. I looked at the ring. I had purposefully not placed it on my left hand. I didn’t want anyone getting any ideas. There was no joy with him, and there never would be. I didn’t believe anymore that God could use me for anything good. There was nothing good left in the relationship, nothing good left inside me. I was filled with spite and anger and distrust.

I pulled out my phone. I’m gonna do it, I wrote to Melissa. I erased it without sending.

I opened the car door and slunk toward Brian’s apartment, stilling my anxieties. There was a prayer inside me trying to escape, but I couldn’t find the words for it. I hoped it didn’t matter. God already knew my heart.

I opened the door without knocking, calling for him as I came inside. I could hear him in the kitchen. I made my way across the tiny living room to the little galley kitchen where he was putting away dishes. “Hey,” I greeted.

He looked at me without any warmth. “Hey,” he answered.

Did he see how nervous I was? He could always read me. My emotions might as well have been on a billboard. “I’m gonna go with Aaron to a movie tomorrow,” I said.

His eyes, impossibly, grew a little colder. “Just Aaron?”

“No, some other people too.” I was purposefully not inviting him. I tried to stand a little taller, to feel bigger than I actually was.

“I don’t want to go,” he said, placing a plate inside the cabinet.

“I didn’t expect you to. I thought I’d just go by myself.”

The suspicion started to creep through his mind. I could see it in his eyes as they narrowed. “Is there anything going on between you two?”

“He’s my friend,” I answered. “He’d been my friend for almost 6 years.”

“I read the email you sent to Melissa,” he said.

The betrayal hit me squarely in the chest. For a moment I couldn’t breathe; not just because of the fear of what he read, but also because of the shock of what he had admitted. “You read my email?!” It might have been a shriek. The anger blurred my ability to think clearly.

“What have you been doing with him?” Brian asked, “Other than letting him ‘get too close’ to you. Whatever that means!”

               I began backing away, not because I was afraid of him, but because I was ashamed. “It means I can’t see you anymore.” I had said it before, but this time it felt like a vow I would take to my grave.

               There was resolve in his features, as if he had known what was coming. Of course, he had. He had read the incriminating email telling Melissa about the conversation I had with Aaron.

               “I think I love you,” Aaron had said.

               “I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” I answered. “But you were with someone…and so am I.”

               Aaron looked across the room to where our friend James was sleeping on the other couch. The movie was still playing but nobody was watching it anymore. I rubbed my hand over his hair, leaning forward. “Come here,” I said, pulling his head down into my lap. He laid his head on my leg, content just to feel me next to him, and have my warmth on his cheek.

               I’d written the email to Melissa the next day, in crisis over the episode. What was I supposed to do? I had to get rid of the man who would never love me the way I needed him to, but I also didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to abandon him. Without me, he would continue to be directionless. He needed me. Isn’t that what had always pulled me back to him? His deep longing for something real?

               I knew what Brian needed, and it wasn’t me. I could never fill that void within him. His spirit craved something I didn’t have—unconditional, unending love.

               “Give me the ring back,” Brian said stonily. He stuck out his hand expectantly. He had trained me to give him whatever he wanted and there didn’t seem to be any doubt that I wouldn’t take the ring from my finger and place it in his open palm. His hard stare simmered with a raging anger as he waited for me to comply, but I met his eyes with confidence. From the depths of me, from a reservoir of strength I forgotten I guarded, I felt my defiance bubbling. I almost smiled as its power filled me.

               “No,” I said calmly.

               He dropped his hand and his features twisted into a snarl. “I need the money for rent!” he yelled at me.

               I had endured worse yelling than that from him. His anger didn’t phase me. “You were going to spend that money on a stereo for your car,” I replied, countering his lie.

               Brian didn’t look like he knew what to say or do. He started several sentences, but left all of them unfinished. I crossed my arms, enjoying his flustered display. “I bought that for you because I thought we were going to stay together!” he finally managed.

               “Did you think you could buy me?” I asked. The reservoir of strength was surging now. I felt it bursting the dams I had constructed out of self-doubt. I felt free for the first time in nearly a year. There was no going back now. I never wanted to feel that walls around me again.

               “Give it back!” he screamed at me, coming forward a step.

               I turned from him, practically running through his apartment to the door. I dashed out of the building to my car and didn’t look back.

               When I pulled into my driveway, I took a moment to compose myself. I had cried most of the drive home. The finality of what I had done was settling over me. I told myself to be strong.

               Wiping away a stray tear, I pulled my phone from my purse. I did it, I wrote to Melissa. I left him.

               I waited for a moment. Her reply came quickly. I am so proud of you.

               Fresh tears stung my eyes. I feel like I’ve wasted the last 18 months. I really thought that if I stayed with him, I could show him how to be a better person. This conversation was nearly as old as the relationship with Brian had been.

               God doesn’t want you to hurt, Sarah.

               Brian had hurt me in many ways, but I had believed they would all be worth it. One day, if I stayed faithful, he would see God the way I did. It seemed like such a fantasy now. Why had I ever thought that? Why had I wanted it?

               It was all for nothing. My despair hollowed me. I wasn’t sure what I could believe anymore. I had thought God would use me, but now it seemed I had simply justified shrinking myself to fit Brian’s whims.

               My phone dinged again, the screen lighting up so I could see the message. But you’re free now. That’s not nothing.

               A year later, after Brian hung up the phone, after I was finished crying from shock and relief, after the feelings of validation started to take hold, I called my dad.

               “Hey, Dad,” I said shakily when he answered.

               “Hey!” He paused, somehow sensing my heaviness. “Are you alright?”

               “Yeah, it’s just…I, um, got a call from Brian just now.”

               My dad, judicious and patient, had both liked and dismissed Brian. Like me, he had seen the potential in him, but unlike me, he had seen the danger in him too. “What did he say?” There was no judgment in his question.

               “He said he was getting baptized on Sunday,” I answered, my voice cracking. “And that he wanted to send me a check for the money he took from me.”

               Dad was silent on the other end of the line. He had been there the night that Brian came to take the money, the cost of the ring, from me. He had followed me to the public parking lot the next day, where Brian had given me half of the money back. He had seen the aftermath of fights, and the redness around my eyes the morning after I had spent the night crying. He had seen how Brian had hooked me, and how I had desperately tried to pull myself away from him. He had watched me become more and more stuck, and he had prayed that I would find a way free.

               “I feel justified,” I choked. “I feel like, maybe, all that time I spent with him wasn’t wasted after all.”

               “You never know how your actions will impact someone else,” he said quietly. “You plant seeds all over. Sometimes they grow.”