Authors: Kristin Vayden
“Because finding you was like breathing for the first time. Don’t run away. Don’t steal my breath, Sophia. I’ve only just learned how much I need it, how much I need you.” His gaze implored, pleading with me to give him what he needed.
“Greyson…” I closed my eyes. I couldn’t save him. And it broke my heart because, in the end, that’s why he wanted me. Wasn’t it? I was his new drug. He needed more, more than I could give. Hadn’t I seen first hand, so many times? How people would shift from drugs to alcohol, to sex, and back to drugs? That’s all it was; a coping mechanism. Until the root of the issue was ripped out of the person’s life, they would continue to find something else. It was a game of trading one evil for another. I didn’t want that for Greyson, and him calling me his breath? That was a huge red flag to me. Yet I couldn’t deny that I was drawn in by his words. Because I wanted him to want me like that.
“I’m not your breath, Greyson. You learned to breathe a long time ago,” I whispered and rushed through the door, wiping away my tears and praying I didn’t run into anyone.
God answered my plea and I made it to my car before the torrent began. I sobbed as I laid my head against the steering wheel, because I’d lost my heart to someone who didn’t understand. Greyson was searching, needing to find a reason to fight, to live without the hit of a drug-induced high. I couldn’t be someone’s everything, someone’s
breath
. It was too large of responsibility and I’d fail. Then what would happen? He’d go right back to where he started, searching for a replacement drug, over and over. And I’d be left behind to pick up the pieces. That wasn’t love. And that was why it hurt so badly. Because I could give him every part of myself, and willingly. Yet in the end it would never be enough to save him, regardless of what he thought or felt.
I arrived at my apartment, thankful that I had the next few days to think, to distance myself and remind myself why I should have never let him see into my soul. But it was too late, the damage was already done and my heart — my soul — was the one that would suffer. Because Greyson wanted me, because I was his breath. I was already too late. He had formed that dangerous attachment to me and in return, I had formed one of my own. My heart tried to tell me that it would work out, that love could conquer all…but my mind wasn’t convinced. Not after everything I had seen in my life. Fear swallowed me whole.
Chapter Seven
“What gives?” Bekah asked as she plopped down on my bed and tore the book from my hand.
“Hmm?” I turned and looked at her, keeping my expression open when all I wanted to do was cry again.
“You! You’re… I don’t know. Not you! What’s up?” She leaned back and brought her knee up then tucked her foot under it.
“I — I don’t even know where to start. No, let me rephrase that. I don’t even
want
to start,” I mumbled and got off the bed, pulling out my ponytail and massaging my scalp to ease the tension.
“Okay…” Bekah twisted her lips as if in deep thought. “So… no one died?”
“What? No, no one died.” I rolled my eyes.
“Good. Nothing permanent then.” She shrugged and stood up on top of the bed.
“What — hey, get off my bed!” I picked up a pillow from my floor and tossed it at her, glaring.
She caught it.
“Since no one died, whatever happened is not permanent. It’s not a forever kind of thing that has no hope. So there’s hope somewhere, you just have to find it.” She jumped off my bed, landing with a thump on the floor.
“I—” I had no words. Anything I wanted to say would be negative, and… she was right. My own emotions were so mixed up that I couldn’t see past my own pain, my own confusion. I needed a new perspective.
“So?” She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side.
“Yeah?” I asked warily.
“Is this going to be a long story… as in, do I need to order Chinese and get a gallon of ice cream, or is this just a coffee house chat?” She pulled out her cell phone and waited.
“I want sweet and sour chicken.” I sighed as a headache gnawed at the base of my neck.
“I always did love sweet and sour chicken,” she said dreamily. “Take a shower and get comfy. It usually only takes thirty minutes for delivery. I’ll pick up the ice cream and be back just in time. Okay?” She patted my shoulder and gave me a tender expression then turned to leave.
“Okay… Bekah?”
“Yeah?” She paused by the door.
“Thanks.” I offered her weak smile.
“I’ve got your back.” She smacked her rump and wiggled her eyebrows, then whirled and walked away.
I giggled slightly and headed for the bathroom.
After my shower, I dressed in my softest yoga pants and a pink Henley. I twisted my hair up into a wet messy bun at the top of my head and swiped away the stray trails of water beading on my forehead. The smell of Lo Mein noodles and sweet and sour sauce greeted me and perked up my mood. My stomach rumbled in response and I headed to our small table as Bekah unpacked the last folded square box.
“Hey, you look better.” She smiled as I plopped down and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.
“I feel better,” I admitted as I opened a carton and popped a chunk of sweet and sour pork into my mouth. “Hot!” I blew out of my mouth furiously, trying to cool the scorching piece of meat.
“That’s what you get for being greedy,” Bekah said cheekily.
“Worth it,” I mumbled around the cooling bite.
“
Mmmmm
.”
We ate in silence for a few moments. The sound of our chopsticks clicking and the occasional splat from a missed bite hitting the table were the only sounds. As I began to slow down, Bekah leaned back in her chair causing it to squeak.
“Okay, I’ve fed you. Now you won’t be as grumpy. Spill.” She reached for another box of Lo Mein and started to pick up the noodles, sending me an expectant look.
Just like that, my momentary bliss from the good food evaporated like a drop of water sizzling in a hot skillet. Poof! I shoved the box of fried rice away, no longer hungry. The food in my stomach was heavy, like I had swallowed lead rather than pork. I let out a long sigh.
“Remember.” Bekah pointed at me with a wooden chopstick. “No one’s dead.”
“Yeah, I know.” I offered her a small grin and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms around me. “What… what would you do if you started to fall — had fallen — for the absolute wrong guy?” I glanced at her as I worried my lower lip.
“How do I know he’s wrong?” Bekah asked leaning forward and setting aside the box of food.
“Well, he’s… broken. But that’s not really the problem. I mean…” I exhaled a large sigh. It was so hard to explain! “There’s no way to explain it. I’d just be a replacement.”
“For another girl?” Bekah asked.
“No, for a different drug,” I mumbled.
“So you met this guy in detox? Hmm… I can see the hesitation.”
“Yeah…” I admitted, sinking lower in my chair.
“So… let’s back up a bit… why are you falling for him? I mean, I know you, Sophia… it’s not like you to give your heart, or any part of it, lightly. There has to be something about this guy that makes it worth the risk.” Her eyebrows furrowed.
“That’s the weird part.” I sat forward and leaned my elbows on the table. “I can’t pinpoint something in particular… It’s… everything. He’s strong, unwilling to admit it though, and completely clueless at his own potential but determined as well. He’s direct. You know exactly what he’s thinking just by reading his expression, yet when he looks at
me…
” I trailed off. “When he looks at me there’s no way I can hide anything. It was nothing but the grace of God that I was able to keep my growing attraction undercover for as long as I did. But when he found out, he… kissed… me… and…” I buried my head in my hands, willing the anxious beating of my heart to return to its usual cadence. The cool tabletop pressed against my cheek.
“Whoa… you kissed him?”
“He kissed me,” I mumbled.
“Did you kiss him back?” Bekah asked carefully.
I lifted up my head, knowing I wore a guilty expression.
“Okay… and wow. Give me a second.” She leaned back and twisted her lips.
“I could get fired, Bekah,” I whimpered, but that wasn’t the true reason for my pain, my self torture, though it definitely played a part.
“Yeah… okay… What happened after he kissed you?”
“I — I ran away.”
“So he’s probably beating himself up right now too?”
“Yeah, he probably is,” I agreed. A vision of his cool gaze speared me, causing both physical pain and intense longing in my chest, stealing my breath.
“So what’s the real reason, the underlying cause for the tears, Sophia?” Bekah asked as she stood and handed me a tissue.
“Because, Bekah, a person can only heal so much by themselves. Detox is great. It’s perfect and the first step, but… unless someone goes beyond that, unless they discover grace and mercy… it won’t ever be enough. They’ll rely on themselves, never realizing that they were created to rely on God. And Bekah, I can’t. I won’t give my heart to someone who doesn’t believe that. In the end, it’s who and what I am. It’s deeper, because my view of love comes from sacrifice and unconditional love. It comes from a forever standpoint that is stronger than any emotion, passion or desire. I—” I paused, shaking. “He can’t love me the way I need to be loved, Bekah. It’s not possible right now. Everything is too new for him, and if I fall for him now, I’ll just be burned, because he isn’t strong enough to guard and protect his own heart; let alone mine. In the end I’d just be left to pick up the broken pieces.”
“I see…” Bekah murmured, chewing her lower lip. “Let me ask one question… Have you said anything to this guy about your concerns? Does he even know this side of you? What if…” Bekah leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, an intense expression illuminating her clear blue eyes. “What if you
are
meant to fall for this man… just who he’ll be later on? Remember, Soph. God doesn’t love us when we’re fixed. He loves us when we’re broken, beyond broken even. He doesn’t resent our shortcomings, He forgives them. Nothing happens by chance. Don’t you still believe that? What if there’s more than what you’re expecting? What if you are the one who shows all those things to him?” Bekah reached out and placed her hand tenderly on mine.
“What if I’m afraid to say anything?” I whispered.
“Then you’re not walking in the same love you were just talking about a minute ago,” Bekah said in a sober tone.
“I — I don’t know if I can do that without falling in deeper, or keeping my emotions detached—”
“We’re not made to be stoic, Sophia. But God’s also not going to give you a challenge He won’t give you the strength and the resources to totally conquer.” She shrugged.
“I know — but it’s a lot easier—”
“Said than done?” Bekah finished.
“Yeah…” I chewed the corner of my lip.
My thoughts drifted to Greyson. I knew he was tormenting himself over what happened because he was too… aware. He would have immediately seen my conflicting emotions and taken them upon himself. I didn’t want that, yet I didn’t know how to stop it either, or if I should. Everything that Bekah said was making sense, but I didn’t know how to put it into practice without walking away burned. Greyson scorched my soul each time I was with him, drawing me in, deeper and faster than the time before until all I wanted was to be around him. I couldn’t let that happen.
I thought of my parents, what they had done with their lives, and were currently doing. Mission work in the Philippines wasn’t for the faint of heart. The poverty level, illiteracy level, and increase in drug abuse all contributed to a society that was desperate for hope. Even from a young age I had seen, time and time again, what hope and truth does to people who are broken. And in contrast, what happened when people rejected it. It was more than just watching people destroy their lives, it was watching them hear the truth and walk away from it, choosing to buy a hit rather than feed their child. It was holding a woman’s hand after her boyfriend had beaten her because she wouldn’t sell her body for drug money. It was wiping the blood off my hands when a woman miscarried another child because she couldn’t stay away from crack. The smell of their wounds assaulted me as if I was there again, holding their hands or smoothing away the tangled mess of their hair from their faces as they shivered on the medical cot.
But truth, unconditional love, sacrificial love, and abundant grace changes people from the inside out. For the many who bled, there were others that went on to create astounding changes in their families, even cities. It wouldn’t do any less for Greyson. Yet… how did I extend myself so fully? How did I give those things without giving myself? That was the million-dollar question. Because I wanted Greyson to find freedom from addiction and the pressure that led to it. I wanted it so badly for him that I could taste it.
Afraid. I was so afraid. Because if Greyson knew what I believed, accepted it, and found the grace and restoration he needed so desperately, I would be powerless to stop falling farther in love with him, knowing full well I might fall alone. Yet if he rejected it, if he didn’t want anything to do with grace whatsoever, a part of me would die because it would also be a rejection of me. It wasn’t something I could separate from myself, and the pain would be unbearable. Either way, I saw the potential for loss in my future. It was unavoidable. But it was worth it. And that was what scared me most of all.
Chapter Eight
Bekah did a great job of babysitting me that weekend. But soon — too soon — I was lying awake in my bed and watching the clock tick away the minutes, the hours until I needed to wake up and head back to Willow and Oak; back to Greyson. While I knew he was worth the risk to my heart, that didn’t stop me from worrying. Could I walk that line? Could I be there to give him an example of grace and hope beyond addiction without falling too deeply into my attraction? Was I crazy to be falling for a guy I hardly had met yet felt so inexplicably drawn to? I fell into a fitful sleep that left me anything but ready when my alarm finally went off.