The Final Straw

It is late. Eleven, midnight, one. I am not sure now. We are standing in the parking lot of a gas station. The gas station is closed and DH is on a pay phone. I am about 300 feet away from him just standing, watching, waiting.

There has been another fight. His bag is packed. He is waiting on his mom. She is coming to take him home for the last time.

I do not remember what the fight was about. I do not remember if I yelled at him to go or begged him to stay. I just remember standing there, in the cold, watching his mom pick him up and them drive away. I remember walking the block back to the apartment in tears. Tired and defeated thinking that this was the end. This time he was never coming back.

Choosing DH

After the domestic DH moved out and back in with his parents. More out of necessity than anything else as there was a mandatory no contact order issued because it was a domestic. However, as soon as I could I started working to get the no contact order lifted and then I started working with his big fancy lawyer that his parents had hired to try to get him out of the charges.

During all of this MW had made it very clear that she did not want him returning to the apartment. That if he came back she was moving out. This was the first time I was asked to choose between him and someone else and the first time I picked him. I made excuses but at the end of the day I still picked him.

She wasn't working and he had a job in our town that he was having to drive 45 minutes to and from every day. So I used that as the reason he needed to come back. It was lame and a cop out but I did it just the same. So somewhere in the beginning of October she moved all of her things back to her parents house and DH moved back in.