Everything had been going smoothly, but I had lost some of my feeling for him and backed off about getting married.
One evening, he came to my apartment after a few too many beers. I didn't like the way he was behaving, so I asked him to leave. As I was leading him to the door, he grabbed me by the arm, threw me to the floor, and started kicking me. And once again, he apologized profusely, begged me to forgive him, and swore he'd never do it again. I said, "That was twice. There won't be a third time." That was the end.