I Still Loved Her
Although Kristin was no longer and could never again be my fiancée, I
still loved her, couldn't ignore the many red flags in what she had flown
off to,
and still worried for her safety and well-being.
I emailed her after a few days to ask how she is doing. She replied that
she is fine, that her friend had driven her around in his pickup truck and even let
her drive it on her own, and that she is having fun. When asked if he had tried
to have sex with her, she replied that when she cried while telling him that I
won't marry her and have sex with her, he had kissed her forehead and she had
fallen asleep in his arms, but that had been it. I didn't know if she was telling
me the entirety of what happened but was relieved to an extent as it didn't sound like he
had tried to rape her.
A week later, she emailed. As I had warned her, he had used her to get back his fiancée, who had moved back into his house and wanted Kristin gone, so she was now sleeping in the open air in his small fishing boat that was parked in his driveway. Despite my many admonitions to not go anywhere until she has built up a rainy day fund of at least a couple of thousand dollars, Kristin had again used her paycheck to pay for her flight and landed with no money. Now she was homeless and broke in a crime-infested ghetto of an American city.
I couldn't reach her for a couple of days, so I called the local police department, which sent officers to his house for welfare checks. I looked online and found a large Baptist church that had decent sermons, and emailed her to go there, explain her situation to its pastor, and seek help from his church.