The father of many.

I am deeply in love with a man who is very busy. 
His home and his workplace (a recording studio) are integrated, in order for him to save time. There is no bedroom, but only a huge mattress on the floor, where I’ll sometimes stay with him overnight, when he has a gap in his mad schedule. He also spends a lot of time traveling, going wherever his work takes him.
He has about 8 or 9 children, none of which he is close to, as they all stay with their respective mommies. Sometimes they will come for a brief visit, but they never stay long.
I realise there’s something not quite right with this guy, but keep ignoring it, as all I want to do is be with him and for the two of us to be happy together.

Then one day, as I’m hanging out at the studio, trying to get myself together and go get on with my own stuff but finding it difficult to pry myself loose from his company, (not that he even pays me any attention, as he’s occupied by his work), there’s a delivery from the postman.
It consist of four babies, from the age of newborn and up to about a year. They are all children of this man, having been sent to him from their 4 different mothers, who have not been able to provide for them, and are now asking him to look after them.
He refuses to sign for them, and the postman has to return them to sender.
I’m appalled at his behaviour, and also very saddened by the fact that he has managed to be unfaithful to me so many times in the few years we have been together. However, I am not really surprised. I always knew he was no good.
Though just HOW selfish and unscrupulous he is, does not become clear to me until a few days later.

I’ve arrived at his place in the afternoon, a bit sooner than we have agreed. When I come up the stairs, I see that the door is ajar, and I hear his voice. I peek inside to see who he is talking to, and see two girls I’ve never seen before, about 9 years of age, whom I immedieately realise are his daughters who’ve come to him for help. They are standing separated, at different corners of the room, and he walks over to hand each of them a package, as he tells them: ‘Ok girls. Here are 150 euro for each of you, a map over Copenhagen, and a packed lunch. You’re on your own. I want you to walk out that door, and never hear from you again. And whatever you do, you are NOT allowed to talk to eachother! Just mind your own business, both of you!’
I realise he is a monster, an evil man who has no qualms about sending these two children out to make a life for themselves on the streets, surviving the best they can.
I quickly run down the stairs while I consider my options, and how I can help the girls. 
I am of course determined never to see this man again, but even as I make the resolution, I have doubts that I’ll be able to stick to it.