Dude Three, The Beginning of the End but Not Really

   Things were blissfully happy with Dude Three but yeah, I’m naïve. Plus I ignore(d) the red flags. And I need to sharpen my radar. Then again, I'm not sure I have one. I should get one, I suppose. 

   Point is, I believed his lies. He’d told me he’d only been with three women. That endeared me.  

   But weeks into our passionate courtship, Three boasted about having recently learned that he’d slept with so-and-so years ago, and she's the daughter of so-and-so. Yeah, he was proud.

   "Wait, you told me you’d only been with three women?"

   “That’s three women since Judy*” he responded. *Judy is his first of two ex-wives. Hm, so, how does marriage negate all of one’s sexual history? Is that new math? Does this mean that people who never marry are virgins, regardless of how many sexual partners they had? Oy. I believed there were only three before me; seems there were approximately 103.  

   Also, when we met, he boasted about his “great kids.” I liked him for that too - a proud dad who did right by his kids, it seemed. In time, though, I realized he’d written his daughter out of his life, and without valid reason. This was bothering me. His rage towards her didn't sit right. I needed to talk to him about it.    

    “Does your daughter get along with your son?” I broached the subject, during dinner on Halloween night.

   “I guess. Why do you ask? I’ve been thinking about her all day. I don’t want to talk about it.” He got tearful, and I took his hand from across the table. “No, don't go there!” I’d never heard him sound so angry or angry at all. “You’re not a parent. You have no right to give me advice! You don’t know—”

   “I’m not trying to give—” I let go of his hand.

   “What, you’re a therapist, so you have to ask questions? You have no idea. She’s dead to me. You have no idea what I went through for her. And I’ve been thinking about her all day. This is going to be my first holiday season without her. It’s tearing me up.”

   I slowly, quietly, took my dishes into the kitchen.

   He followed me. “Where is this coming from? We were having a great time. I brought over movies, we were going to give out candy and have a fun night. Then you made me talk about something I said I don’t want to talk about. You need to respect my wishes.”

   “Okay. I won’t ever bring it up again. I love you.”

   “I love you too, but you kept poking and poking. You made me talk about something I said I don't want to talk about." He reminded me of my ex husband, leaning towards paranoia. I began to see Jekyll’s Hyde or Hyde’s Jekyll and/or someone ugly.

   “You’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you angry like this.”

   “Oh, if you think this is angry, honey, you haven’t seen anything.”

   …Dude Three assured me we’d be okay. He needed time alone, though, so he collected his things and said he was going home.

   "I'm going to kill her," he said, standing under my door frame, "I'm not kidding." He then blew me a kiss and left.

   Whoa. Right? Scary stuff. Sigh. And I'd fallen in love with such a nice man. I thought. Again. A sudden explosion from an angry, troubled man who didn't seem at all angry at any point before this.

To be continued once more, and then more. Because even when our story’s over, it’s not over. You can’t imagine why. I wouldn’t have ever imagined things as they are now…