This Kind of Love I Do Not Understand

My youngest son has not had an easy life: he got involved with older kids at an early age, and also got involved with alcohol. By the time we learned the extent of his drinking problem, he was half-way through college. By the time he was in his thirties, he was an out-of-control alcoholic with a wife and son.  The wife hated him and divorced him when the son was about a year old, but not before condemning every action he tried to take to  gain sobriety, calling his first stint in rehab a "vacation", and slamming him with every demeaning label she could find, further tearing into his already-low self-respect. Since then she has continued to castigate him and refuses to believe that he is sober, continually forcing him to take a breathalyzer test every time he picks up his son for weekend visits - that is, when she lets him, which is almost never on the schedule that is supposed to be in place.  He is so afraid of her that he refuses to apply for a Court-Ordered visitation schedule, fearing that she will somehow be able to take visitation away from him altogether, especially now that he is living at home.  My husband and I have struggled to help him stand up to her for years, to no avail, for the sake of his son, now seven years old, who adores him and would benefit greatly from spending more  time with him.  Financially, although he has rarely been unemployed, he has never been able to fully support himself, and has always lived with roommates when he was not living at home.  Then last year he reconnected with a young lady from his childhood, and the two of them soon became inseparable.  She also had a son the same age as our grandson, and the two boys bonded instantly.  They moved in together unofficially last June, and officially (names together on the lease) last August.  They became engaged at Christmas, and she said this is exactly what she wanted.  It seemed like a union made in Heaven, and Ryan was finally getting some control over his situation, with a good deal of emotional support from his now-fiancee.  Then, out of the blue, three weeks ago she suddenly decided that they could no longer live together and the engagement was off. She cited money problems, inability to deal with the drama of the ex-wife, and an alleged diagnosis of "selective mutism" as the explanation of why her son had stopped talking in school.  She decided that the problem was stress, that it was caused by her living with Ryan (even though Ryan had always been nothing but the best role model for the boy), and he had a week to move out.  The timing could not have been worse, inasmuch as he was finally able to get a new job that would pay him enough to get out of debt, and was starting the next week. In the meantime, there was no choice but for him to move back home until he could get his bearings.  One week prior to this, she had introduced me as her mother-in-law, as though the marriage had already taken place. Then, within mere days after she evicted Ryan, she started posting daily Facebook comments on the joys of living stress-free, posting pictures of her son, also 7, "proposing" to her, drawing pictures for her, and miraculously being cured of the selective mutism. Ryan is still reeling from the turnaround, as are the rest of us, including me: I opened my heart to this boy, who has other psychological problems, and who had grown to accept me as one of his family, calling me Grandma O.  They live only a few minutes away, and it was always nice to have them come by. I keep recalling all the loving things she said about Ryan, and wonder now if any of it was true.  How can someone profess love one minute then just turn it off the next? She didn't even have the courage to give the ring back to Ryan, and until he found it buried in with his things, which she packed up while he was working, he thought that the separation was just temporary, until they could resolve their individual issues.  Finding the ring like that changed everything. Love - true love - is supposed to be kind, patient, slow to anger and quick to forgive, at least according to the Bible.  I wonder where the women are who still believe this.  Poor Ryan hasn't met anyone like that yet, although he really believed, as we all did, that this one was different. He let his guard down and trusted her completely. This is so much worse than the first time-for all of us. Meanwhile, he has started his new job, and so far it seems to be everything he hoped for. Only, now, the success feels hollow, as there is no one to be successful for. My heart breaks for my sweet boy.