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.
