We got to my mom's house the evening of March 1, miraculously got the kids settled and in bed, and I sat on the couch with my mom in a state of shock. There was no way to process what had happened in the last twelve hours. I stayed focused on the kids and just putting one foot in front of the other. With three, especially as young as they are, there's no time to step back, take a break, or even really begin to absorb the gravity of what had happened or what was ahead of us. I remember going to my mom's room that night to attempt to sleep and looking at the baby in the pack 'n play, sleeping soundly. I forced myself to stay focused on the fact that she was fully unaware of what was happening and in this moment, she felt safe and content.
The next day I gave my attorney permission to start the process of officially filing for divorce. I had yet to see any of the evidence that the PI stepmom had, but she shared it with my attorney before they instructed me to leave town and that was enough for me. We spent the next several days at my mom's. My dear friend who picked up my middle from school the day before was also working at the studio at the time, so she took ownership of communication with my team & getting my classes covered. I was also made aware that he had been immediately fired from the restaurant a few days prior after the folks in charge were made aware of what had been going on - that had actually happened before I got the Facebook message to call the stepmom. Of course, he would present it to me in a slightly different way, unaware that I already knew the truth (well, the beginning of it at least).
As though I had been holding out on helping out financially the last year just because. Also, if I hadn't been able to pay myself consistently a year ago, not sure why I would be able to now when I had to repeatedly be away from the studio as the only dependable parent present for our children. Every time someone was sick, out of sorts, school holiday, whatever - that was on me to handle.
I suppose I should have been grateful for his sudden ability to respond to text messages with me. After being ripped away from his future bride and her phone confiscated (after he promises to wait 400+ days for her until she will be 19 and begs her to not take her ring off), he quickly became concerned with my mom's wellbeing (we were up there under the pretense that one of her horses kicked her - gave myself a pass on that departure from truth-telling given what got us to this point) & would often check in. It became a source of entertainment for us - what malady might befall her today? Should we get an MRI? We know Mom gets loopy with any sort of pain meds, so obviously I will need to care for the horses a fair amount.
We were there for a week; my brother installed deer cams at the end of Mom's driveway so we would be alerted if he were to show up at any point. We never had any alerts, but months later when reviewing our discovery of the other bank accounts he had (of which I knew nothing), I saw a charge from the gas station at the exit for my mom's house during the dates we were there. He had no scheduled events out of town that week, and she lives out in the country a few hours away. There was not a single reason for him to be at that exit.
Throughout the week, he made up business levels at the restaurant and a cause for the manager's hospitalization, not to mention just events in general.
Back in the world of reality, I juggled sick kids and various forms of entertainment. My sister-in-law did an unbelievable job of procuring any type of baby or kid stuff we needed while there - it was just a hint of the unbelievable amount of generous help that would come our way in the months to come as it would be four months until there would be any sort of financial support from him. Well, with the exception of the cash he would leave before he left town.
On March 7, I signed off on the paperwork to file for divorce. It was happening. It was turned in at 5:15pm that afternoon. He was supposed to leave town the next day, so no one anticipated we would be able to get him served before he left. Either way, it meant he would be gone for several days, and the kids & I could go back home. By 8:45am the next morning, our paperwork was signed into order. It included the divorce, emergency financial support for the kids & me, and a temporary protection order that kept him away from the house, school, and daycare. What I was told and my attorney had seen was so far beyond what could be considered sane behavior, and I knew he always had a firearm on him. While I didn't think, even after everything we had learned, that he would intentionally hurt the children, everything that had taken place was about his having control. None of us were sure of what his mental state was at the time, especially given that the love of his life was just taken from him.
We knew that the turnaround time on my paperwork was incredibly efficient but the likelihood he could be served that day was slim. United in our desire for justice, my attorney's office managed to get a server quickly who began trying to locate him. He was not at our house (not surprising), so I gave them the office address after he confirmed what time they were leaving. Not there. The attorney's office manager, eager for this to happen, sent the server the address of the trap house. Ding. Ding. Ding. We had a winner.
Knowing he had been served, the kids & I loaded up to drive home. SuperFriend (that's just going to be her name now) & her husband planned to meet me at our house to help us unload, settle, return our dogs, and set up security cameras. It was dark when we arrived, but we eventually got everything in place and they went home for the night.
The next day was back to the real world, with the kids back to school & daycare (PTL), and I was able to meet with my team & update them on what was happening. Everyone was incredibly understanding and supportive. At the end of the day, driving back home, I called his ex-wife to let her know what was happening and that I had filed. I figured even if my stepkids are adults, I still wanted to defer to their mom on how to break the news. I had been in their lives for sixteen years at the point and can't imagine the rest of our lives without them around. My youngest stepdaughter had another graduation that weekend, so I didn't want to ruin her celebration. We agreed to wait until after, and then their mom would let them know I had filed and I could call after to answer questions. She & I compared stories and began to discover several parallels. A younger (not NEARLY as young the first time) mistress, shady financial behavior, tattoos for his mistress at that time (the leprechaun for me, and apparently his other two tattoos I was told were from the Navy ACTUALLY were covering up the mistress's initials on his forearm and the ex-wife's name on his shoulder - which he did to try to win her back) - nothing like the picture he painted to me about his ex-wife (or like he painted to the girl about me). 0/10 for creativity.
I pulled into the driveway still chatting, so we were wrapping up as I unloaded the kids and all of our stuff from my car and herded us inside. My garage door opener wasn't working (the door had had issues recently, so it wasn't alarming. I unlocked the front door, got us all inside, offered a bath to the middle one and went to warm up a bottle for the baby. However, when I pushed the button on the bottle warmer, nothing happened. No light, no beeping, nothing. Feeling like I was in slow motion, I began to realize that I hadn't turned on any lights when we walked in. I approached a lamp and turned the switch. Nothing. Light switch on the wall? Nothing. The power was shut off. I went outside and could see our neighbors' lights on. As I came back through the front door, I noticed a crumpled paper I hadn't when we first walked in.
I ended the call with his ex-wife after promising I would bring the kids to the west coast to see them when everything eventually settled down.
In all of the nerves and stress coming in last night, I didn't pay much attention towards the front door (we usually loaded/unloaded through the garage). It was a collection notice that would require nearly all of the $500 he left to last the four of us for a week. I called my mom, who had her mother's intuition before we left and sent me with a check. I was able to do a remote deposit and called the power company. When the woman answered, I told her I wasn't sure if the account was under my name or his (since he was "handling" our bills). We tried his name first, and the address she read off to me to confirm was the one for the trap house. Because of course it was. I declined that address and we located mine; the charge somehow cleared (at this point it was after 5:30pm), but it would be a few hours before they could get the power back on. The sun was setting quickly, the house was getting darker by the minute, witching hour was fully upon us, and the middle one had decided to completely undress for the bath I mentioned. Convincing an almost three year old that they could not have their bath right now AND to put her clothes back on...words do not suffice.
I did it. I got her re-dressed, pulled together enough pieces of school uniforms, PJs, and play clothes, underwear, toothbrushes, bottles, formula and whatever else to get out of the door. When I called my mom earlier, I had also texted the two friends from the intervention. Both of them immediately offered their own places. We decided that SuperFriend's house was closer, so I headed that way. We were barely home for 24 hours and had already been forced back out. We got to SF's house, unloaded AGAIN, and the kids enjoyed themselves so much I began to think they might never leave haha. Several hours after I texted him to tell him the power was shut off, he finally responded that he didn't know the account number. No apology. Nothing. But wait - I thought you would never hurt your kids? Pretty sure they need power and enough money for food, but maybe I'm wrong.
Thankfully, after reading that text, I looked up and was reminded of my purpose.
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