Episode 2.
I went back to work convinced I was done. I was not going to speak to him again. At the time, I was living with an elderly roommate, a kind Christian lady. When I told her about the experience, she offered the kind of traditional advice many of us grew up with. Character matters more than looks, she said since he apologized then dont write him off just yet. Study him.
Against my gut feeling, I decided to at least start taking his calls.
One afternoon I decided to reach out. A girl answered his phone. I went cold. I stopped taking his calls immediately, but he was relentless calling and calling until I finally picked up that night. His explanation was audacious. He admitted it was a girlfriend he had staying at his house. He claimed he didn’t know if he would like me or not before we met but now that he had, he wanted to marry me. I will never forget his word,“Don’t let someone else take your husband.” He told me he had asked her to leave and that she was out of his life forever. I believed him. From that moment on, the charming version of him appeared. He would talk about himself from sunrise to sundown. In his stories every ex-girlfriend was the villain and he was the victim. I felt for him.
To understand why I stayed, you have to understand who I was then. I grew up protected. I didn’t really know what a bad person looked like. I was naive, soft, and agreeable the kind of person who was easy to push. He saw that. He knew I was someone who wouldn’t question him.
By September, he had traveled back to Cyprus to finish his supposedly Master’s degree, and that’s when the first major red flag waved right in my face.
I was having an issue with an older boss and discussed it with him. I told him I planned to speak to the boss directly to clear the air. Initially, he was supportive. I went to the meeting and left my phone in my office (I was working offshore then and phones weren't allowed in certain areas). When I returned to my desk, my phone was blowing up. He had sent over 20 messages, and they were not supportive anymore. He was cursing me out. He said he had changed his mind about me talking to my boss l, a decision that was never his to make. He called me every name in the book, Stupid. Idiot. Fool. Bastard. I stood there in shock, holding my phone. I called him trembling asking why he would say those things. He didn't really apologize he just said he didn't think I should have gone. Then as quickly as the storm started he switched. He became nice again, calling me every second to drown out the memory of his outburst. He never addressed it again. And after a while I let myself forget it happened.
By October the love bombing reached a high pitch. We were going to be married in December. He made grand plans, telling me about everything he has done for women in the past and everything he would do for me. December arrived. I went to the airport to welcome him home and right there amidst the chaos of arrivals he proposed. The ride home was different. He was rough, constantly poking and prodding me in the car even though his friends were right there. He seemed high or at least off. No matter how many times I told him to stop he didn’t.
I still struggle to process what happened over the next few days.