I don’t recall a time when Alex didn’t have a knot on his head, a cut on his lip, a bite into his skin, welts on his arms or stitches. I did notice, however, over time the teddy bear sweet guy who sat across the table from me with a smile as wide as the Charles River on Monday mornings looked beaten up rather than injured.
When I began asking Alex about his bruises he shrugged off my queries and talked about something else. Some Monday mornings then he would call me at the last minute to cancel or he wouldn’t show up at all.
One morning he called me to cancel telling me he was in Mount Auburn Hospital. His partner had stabbed him severely.