Page 38 of To Believe In You
She eyed him, almost as if she could tell he’d left out names on purpose. Shane might not support healthy boundaries, but Matt wished Lina would lay some out for himself, if only because that would mean they had a definable relationship. Something beyond co-workers.
But who did he think he was to deserve a deeper connection with her?
“Anyway.” He stepped back, allowing his arms to slip from the top of her car door. “I’ve got to go make sure Lakeshore gets its pizzas.”
Ducking any reaction to his lame closing, he cut across the lot to the Brownmobile. As he’d said, he couldn’t promise to never relapse, and he still owed a steep financial debt to his parents from last time. A relationship where he was trusted enough to observe boundaries was still a long way off.
* * *
Lessons stretchedinto the evening at Key of Hope. After her trip to the parking lot failed to prevent a talk with Matt, Lina returned to her desk. As sunset painted the scene out the windows in pastel pinks and purples, she caught up on her social media duties for Awestruck.
The announcements about Philip’s departure still garnered the most attention, though they’d been live for two weeks already. She’d stopped trying to find new ways to word the same sentiment—that they would miss him but respected his choice to prioritize his family—in response to comments and instead simply kept an eye out for trolls or controversy.
None surfaced, and even the resentment she’d felt when she’d learned the rest of the reason for Philip’s choice had ebbed.
Thanks to Matt.
Hadn’t she been shocked by his transformation? He was proof people could change.
A reminder she shouldn’t have needed that God could work miracles.
Shane had claimed to believe in that same God, but she’d seen little evidence of faith in how he spent his time or how he spoke. Had that changed? He hadn’t mentioned God in any of his attempts to reconnect. And a couple of calls, a text, and a bouquet did little to repair the damage he’d inflicted. Had he made more extreme changes that she couldn’t see because she’d moved away?
How much did his transformation—or lack thereof—matter?
She could no longer pull up mental imaginings of what their kids might look like, or what trips they might take as a family, or how they’d make meals together a priority. She no longer wanted her parents’ approval enough to overlook her misgivings about him.
She’d made the right choice to leave, and she needed to follow Matt’s advice and set boundaries, doing what she wished her dad had done: taken her side in the breakup and asked Shane to stay away.
What a striking idea. She hadn’t needed someone else to protect her. She could’ve stood up for herself directly with Shane instead of ignoring him and hoping the problem would disappear.
On a surge of empowerment, she picked up her phone, but her ability to craft replies vanished. Responses to fans on social media came naturally, but she had woefully little experience setting boundaries like this.
She started with the things he’d be glad to hear, and from there, the rest came.
I forgive you, and you didn’t need to send flowers, but thank you. I wish you all the best, however, I’m not comfortable resuming a relationship. Please stop reaching out.
Without sending, she reread the message, questioning every sentiment. Did she really forgive him? She was comfortable surrendering him to God and not pursuing the debt—financial or emotional. If he was truly a believer, Christ had paid for his betrayal on the cross. If not …
Lord, You know where Shane stands with You. Please work on his heart in whatever way he needs. Work on mine too.
Returning to the text, she kept the part about forgiveness and deleted the phrase wishing him all the best—her healing had a ways to go before that would become true—and went on to consider the merits of using the wordplease.
The nicety softened the hard line she’d taken, but she’d clearly laid out her expectations. Using manners didn’t make her a pushover. She hoped.
Her finger hovered over the send button while an ache dug deep into her stomach.
If only she had Matt’s courage. He wouldn’t hesitate over such a thing.
With a cringe, Lina tapped to send the text.
As soon as she did, her resolve wavered. What if Shane sent a nasty reply? What if, in the spirit of forgiveness, she shouldn’t have shut down all further contact?
Throat threatening to close, she opened her message thread with Matt. This would be the first time she’d used his number for personal reasons, but imagining he would support what she’d done was no longer enough. She needed to actually see or hear reassurance.
I texted, asking Shane not to reach out anymore.
His reply arrived less than a minute later—quick, but shorter than she’d hoped.Good call.
