The day I ran into my dear friend’s abuser, I had just finished a lovely dinner with my family in celebration on my son’s birthday. We were walking out and he was walking into the restaurant. I stood, frozen, unable to speak for what seemed like an eternity.
I had imagined this moment many times before. This town isn’t that big. I knew he was out of jail because he had only served less than a year of his 10 year sentence. He served less than a year for lacerating a liver, breaking three ribs, collapsing the lung, and the kidnapping of someone that I love. I wonder if his crime had been drug related, would he have served more time?
In my visions of our meeting, I imagined that I would say something sarcastic like, “Beat any women lately?” I just knew that I would confront him. A throat punch would be a nice touch. I had been friendly to him before I knew there was a monster lurking inside. If I ran into him, I would want to make it clear that that I know who he really is.But, instead, I stood paralyzed. Oh my GOD! Is that? It is. I know it’s him. I whispered his name to my husband. My in-laws and son wanted to know what was going on so I filled them in. My sweet yet feisty mother in law said, “That’s no man.”
I just stared as he walked toward the table of friends, his arm leading the pretty unsuspecting blonde. Does she know what he’s capable of? Is this their first date? Has he hit her yet? Should I have said something to her? What if she already knows and believes his lies?
I stood by the door and stared at the back of his head. I felt sick. I prayed for her safety.