Untangled 29: Reasonable Doubt

I left the salon with a whole new perspective, and I got MAD. While still in the salon parking lot, I got on Facebook and looked for his daughter. I messaged her and told her I was concerned about her dad. I asked if he was doing okay and to please tell him to call me. She responded and said, “My dad is just fine; he will always have the support of his family.” What was that supposed to mean? I said, “Okay, thanks.” Either she doesn’t know he’s dying, or HE LIED.

I made it home from the salon about an hour later. While walking up the stairs, my phone rang—it was him.

I answered on the first ring, full of excitement.

Me: “Hey! Oh my God, I thought you had died! How are you feeling?!”

Him: “Fine, why did you message my daughter?”

Me: “I was concerned. The last text I got from your son said they couldn’t stop the bleeding! I thought you died.”

Him: “Kim, don’t ever call or message my daughter. She has enough to worry about.”

Me: “What?! Are you still in the hospital? I’m gonna FaceTime you.”

Him: “Don’t FaceTime me because I’m not gonna answer. I haven’t shaved in days, and my phone is dying… I’ll call you later, the nurse just walked in.”

He hangs up.

I thought that was odd. He also sounded weird, like he was whispering. I had no right to question him because we weren’t together, but I was glad he was still alive. I figured when he got back to Texas, we could really sit and talk.

Christmas Eve was a week later. I worked that whole day, and after I got off, I went to Walmart to grab a few things for Christmas Day. At this time, I was severely depressed. This would be the first Christmas Day in my whole life that I would spend alone. I quickly grabbed a few things to cook and sat in my car and cried. I was watching the families and couples in the parking lot. You could just feel their excitement for tomorrow. Why couldn’t I have that? What was wrong with me? Why was I always messing things up?

After a good cry, I pulled onto the access road and over to the right lane. I turned my head left and right, and then I saw him in the Explorer sitting at the light. Oh my God! That was him! I couldn’t believe it! What were the chances? I honked my horn and frantically waved. I thought this was a sign from God because what were the chances of seeing him at the stoplight pulling out of Walmart?! I was just crying about being alone for Christmas, and there he was. I was expecting him to pull over, but he didn’t. He waved and kept driving. I got a text about an hour later saying he would come by later. About four hours passed before there was a knock at the door. He walked in, looking the same way he did the last time I saw him. He didn’t look sick or even a pound thinner.

Me: “Oh my God! You look good for someone who’s been in the hospital for weeks! When did you get discharged?”

Him: “I knew you would be spending Christmas alone, so I signed myself out and took the next flight here.”

I believed him because I wanted to believe him. What was the alternative? He was all I had, and Christmas was tomorrow. The next day, he came over around 1 p.m.—which was odd because he lived alone. I had purchased a few gifts for him when we talked the week before. I wanted to start over, to make him feel better after being in the hospital for so long.

We exchanged gifts and had Christmas dinner. Immediately after eating, he said he was feeling tired and needed to go lay down, so he left. He was at my apartment for less than an hour. Before he left, I gave him a hug, tilted my head, and yanked his sweater to see the stitches. He quickly pushed my hand away, stepped back, and walked out. I locked the door and sat down. What had I just done? That was the thread I didn’t mean to pull yet. To stay with a narcissist, there are certain threads you don’t pull, and I knew that. He never let me see his stomach and never mentioned his brush with death again. Like everything else, it was buried.

This time around was worse. He was now not even texting once a day like he was before. Periodically, I would check the cloud history on my phone, and this time, I saw a search history for Puerto Rico right before he went into the hospital. Then, last week, there was a brief search for engagement rings. I thought, “Oh my God, he’s looking at engagement rings!” Deep down, I knew I couldn’t marry him, but I so wanted to be done with this season. I thought maybe this was love, because why was he fighting so hard to stay with me? Maybe I had misunderstood him and was sabotaging myself. All these feelings were conflicting. I knew who he was, I knew what I heard that night from God, but now my heart was softened again because he almost died. I didn’t know if I was coming or going.