My Fourth Marriage ~ Part Four

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After that, I really woke up to the fact that I was involved with an alcoholic. I did slowly move back in. This was our pattern. About every three months he would get real drunk and we'd fight. I'd leave and slowly we'd make up and I would move back. Yeah, I know the old fight-or-flight bees wax. I couldn't fight with him. Trying to yell my truth at him got us nowhere and unless my voice was louder he wouldn't listen. My daughter was old enough she was gone doing other things most of the time. We had another fight and this was the final straw. My daughter had married and had a little girl named Miranda. DBY had become very attached to Miranda and we used to watch her together. I have some great memories of the three of us climbing on his bed and watching kiddy movies. My daughter happened to be there helping me to pack that day and Miranda was with her papa. I was ready to leave for the final time. I was in the bedroom upstairs, my daughter was across the hall and DBY was downstairs. I had my back to the door packing some things into a box, hearing his footfalls on the stairs and the door to the bedroom opened. The next thing I hear is a loud click. I turned around to see DBY with a rifle pointed at me. The rifle, for whatever reason, had miss-fired. My daughter saw him going into the room and quickly ran across the alley to the 7-Eleven and called 911. Sirens, police, my daughter crying thinking I was surely dead. In August of 1996, my daughter and I left that house never to set foot in it again. We moved into a duplex apartment. Each time I would hear someone knock on the door or the doorbell ring I would freak and run to the other end of the house thinking it was DBY. It has just been the last five or six years that the PTSD has subsided and I don't panic when someone knocks on our door. Ten years down the line I get a phone call. DBY calling. We talked for quite a while. He even apologized. I know he only called to see if he could ingratiate himself with my daughter so he could remain in my granddaughter's life. That was my granddaughter's choice and they were a little friendly for a short time until he started his manipulation with her and now she doesn't talk to him anymore. My daughter saw him at the store a few months ago. His hair has greyed and she said he didn't look great. I know he was diagnosed with diabetes after I left so he's dealing with that. All I can say is Karma's a b*tch!