And I hate it!

Barely husband has been really nice to me so he has to be a cunt to Raven.

Pardon my English but dick is not enough.

Raven had her first agent audition on Sunday. It was close to his place so it made total sense that he would take her.

He suggested I drive there early Sunday to take her. I didn’t want to, first because we had already spent more than enough time together on Saturday, with me having lunch with them and him coming over so I could explain the mortgage application he has to do to him. Besides, he needs to be involved in her life, doing things for her.

She had to rehearse a script and her audition song. She had been struggling with the highest note since Friday. Nerves, I was sure, because I know she can nail it.

Late evening, I get a Snapchat message from her. She’s in tears, in a full fledged panic attack.

Instead of being supportive, he called her singing screechy. Instead of rehearsing with her, he tells her to shut up not to disturb the neighbours.

He didn’t shout, according to her, but that’s not the point.

Since the split, we have put a lot of pressure on Raven. Most of it unintentionally but there’s no escape. She will be affected.

She started suffering from anxiety that leads to panic attacks, that can potentially lead to depression. I have intervened a few times to get her out. I doubt he’s even noticed.

I was left talking to her on the phone, rehearsing her script by text and psyching her back into audition mode.

When I felt she was well enough, I promised her she could rant at me the whole ride back home and we would get three tubs of Ben&Jerry’s. EACH!

And we would eat ice cream until we felt sick and had explosive diarrhoea!

Her reaction?

“Eweeeew! Yes, please!”

She thanked me and said she loves me.

I love her too, more than anything.