I've been thinking about this over the last couple of days, to do with why I chose to (finally) take my wedding ring off the day after Valentine's, and why I was so able to believe in the relationship for so long, when it was so obvious to everyone outside it that it was a bad 'un.
I think I was half expecting him to send me something for Valentine's. I think I half wanted him to. I think I wanted to believe that he was sorry, that he could be sorry. I was grieving having lost my love for him, and wanted to know that my love hadn't been wasted, that there was a good person in there somewhere.
Part of me is aware that if he had sent something, I would be much more able to forgive him, and perhaps even be less rigid legally with the finances of the divorce etc. Part of me is appalled at how easy it would be for him to manipulate me, if he so chose. Part of me realises that this is how he manipulated me so easily. I read about DV and read about the massive apologies afterwards to reel the partner back in. 'He never does that' I thought. But he did, just in a much more underhand way. Every weekend would be horrible. Then through the week it would gradually get better until, on a Thursday (our 'date' night) he'd make an effort and cook a lovely meal. I've recently realised that this was not because he loved me, it was because he loved cooking. He would regularly cook inflict big elaborate meals on us all at the weekend, that sometimes weren't ready till 8/9pm (not great for my then 5-year-old DS). He'd say that he was determined to cook fresh for his daughters because they ate ready meals and take-aways through the week. But the act of cooking took hours and took him away from spending time with them. As ever, it was never about them, it was about him and what he wanted to do. (And part of it, I think, was about him wanting to be seen to be providing for them, he wanted them to be grateful and me to be impressed.)
Anyway, rambling slightly...
I also didn't think he gaslighted me, but over the weekend I remembered an incident where we'd argued a bit on a Friday morning (before we were married, when we both still lived separately, but I was pregnant). I was stressing about packing for selling my house, we argued, he said for me to just stay at mine on the Friday night and pack instead of going through to his as I had been doing every weekend. I was upset he said that, but a bit relieved (and also genuinely needed to pack, and gawd knows he didn't lift a finger to help me). However, what actually happened (I now think), is that he pretended to his daughters that he didn't know I wasn't coming through, and started texting and phoning me at 6pm to ask where I was. He then phoned much later and verbally abused me enormously while drunk, saying I was upsetting the girls, demanded that I come over there and then (it was 11pm, DS was in bed, I said no, he threatened to end things... I didn't go but went first thing the next morning, I ended up apologising).
My brain can't compute that someone would lie to their own daughters and get them upset just to manipulate and control someone else. I can't process it so I ignore it and focus on the stuff I can process, like a bunch of flowers, him telling me he loved me, the weekly promise of 'come on, let's have a good weekend' etc. It's easier to believe that, and believe that I'm the one at fault than to believe someone could actually be so calculatingly mean as to lie to their daughters and upset them.
So. If he'd sent me some Valentine's flowers, I'd have been able to focus on them and not process the fact that he's demanding so much money off me for the house, despite the abuse. In actual fact, he's probably missed a trick there. Not so bloody clever after all, eh? EH? Ahem.
But he didn't send anything. Thank goodness, in a way, but I think it still makes me sad inside, to realise that this is the kind of person he truly is. It's there, in bold fact, I can't focus on something else instead. I was so blind. I blinded myself and was willingly blinded. So that's probably why the ring came off the next day. I still keep rubbing my finger where it was though. 
I think for my 40th this year, I want to myself get a lovely ring (for another finger) that I can rub at and look at and enjoy. I remember JK Rowling doing that with one of her first big payments, a kind of 'Eff U' ring. I want an 'Eff U' ring!