https://bit.ly/3JaD0It
https://bit.ly/3GuGzI1
https://bit.ly/3Hx1M5g
https://bit.ly/3GHFUTK
https://bit.ly/3st3MVQ
https://bit.ly/3rAyBsE
https://bit.ly/34o5yj7
https://bit.ly/3JaD377
https://bit.ly/34vdQFM
https://bit.ly/3uDRiNR

The above are what I got from him from the time we broke up until the time he moved out of our home, which took about six weeks. The reason was never made clear, possibly because he didn’t even know what the reason was.
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During these hellish six weeks, I had to endure more abuse from him because I “dared” to become unwell during our marriage, and therefore could only work part-time. And how dare I become an author? How dare I write and publish when I should be working fulltime despite my chronic health situation? And on and on, ad infinitum.

Cut a long story short: He moved out within six weeks to his parents' and took off with all our retirement money. Not only this, but he never returned a large amount of money he owed me AND he eventually stopped paying the mortgage so I was forced to sell a five-month-old garden apartment in an affluent suburb of Sydney at a rock-bottom price before the bank came after me.
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As for his so-called “caring” parents who always told me they considered me a daughter; they didn’t even give a crap that their son turned out to be a liar, cheat, and a thief (I later found out through another family source that they--the parents--knew this was their son’s pattern, or MO as I'd like to call it. But did they ever try to warn me? Nah! Did they ring me to see what had happened after seven years of being with their psycho son? Nah!). Well, good riddance! They obviously knew their son was born with the incorrect wiring in his brain, and my source later told me they (the parents) tried an intervention with him when he was younger, but nothing came of it. Ugh! I hope the ex wasn't into torturing little animals.

As for the ex’s excuse that he couldn’t be with anyone anymore, and that this was his last relationship (meaning ours)--well, this turned out to be a load of hogwash. He already had a floozy stashed away on the side—a single mother with two kids. Now, aside from his cheating on me, this was a kick in the teeth as having wanted to adopt for a long time, and arguing with him about it, he always said: “No. I don’t want another man’s children. I already have my own.”