I joined a gym, the one in the old Wellington mall. I set play dates with the neighborhood moms. I went to a Mary Kay party and was almost convinced I needed to become the next up and coming sales rep driving a pink car. Almost. I never saw Bruce, I was essentially a single mother. He would be off at work, or a strip club, or where ever. We did the obligatory block party thing with the neighbors. Yuppie life. Until one morning, just shy of a year later on a Saturday, I got a knock on the door. Bruce was “working”. It was our landlord. She was there to evict us. There has to be a mistake. I tried calling Bruce at work, only to learn he hadn’t been there in the last 3 days. There has to be a mistake. Bruce kept the check book in a drawer in the little foyer area. I run to it and check the ledger. No it’s all right here, rent check number 135 in the amount of 950.00. I show her. Never got it. I say how much do we owe? over 3 months. There has to be a mistake. I inspect the check book ledger, everything appears to be in order, FPL, Cable, water, rent it’s all here. Never got it she says again. I call my grandparents, they are closest and ask them to come over right away. We call the bank. This can’t be happening. Everything in the ledger is a lie. All of it. The checks have been made out to cash in actuality. He had paid just enough of everything to keep it on, the electric is past due, the water is past due, the cable…all of it. All of it is a lie. I don’t even know where to begin. I am hysterical. I am homeless again. My kids, they’re older now, they are going to understand that I am taking them from their home, their new friends. I am throwing up, violently throwing up. I can’t stop. My grandmother, my nana is trying to comfort me, this is the first time they offer me a place to stay, she knows I am blindsided. The landlord is kind enough to see that I am clearly unprepared for this as well and gives me a week to pack my things. She was prepared to have us removed and lock the house with the assistance of the police. I am grateful, humiliated, devastated, grieving the loss of my “normal” life for my children. There are no words, just me crying and throwing up. My grandparents take the kids for me, my mother is on her way, we are in touch with the neighbor who married Bruce and me, she is also the manager of the bank I am now in debt to. It takes me seven years to clean up the financial ruin that he left me with. There are more years with him after this and I will get there, but seven long years. He has never paid a dime in child support, has never contributed to the well being of his kids. He lives in Virginia with yet another wife and is apparently an author of a few books.He has never checked on his children, never looked them up, never looked back. Must be nice.