It is none of my business. This I know. But I am concerned. I hear the way you talk about him. I see the why you shy away from him. I see the tears welling up in your eyes. I see the remnants of bruises you have tried to disguise. I see this, and I know.
The first day I spoke to you, the mechanic had forced himself upon you. And you were going to testify against him in court. You worry for your child. You worry for yourself. A small girl like you has no way to defend herself. They overpower you. You cannot trust any of these men. The mechanic. The child's dad.
I listen to you talk. I see the relief on your face when you get to let it out. To let off your steam. I see how you feel better, and maybe even a little safe. But the concern worms it's way deep inside me. You refuse to admit it outright that he hits you. But I know it is true. I can see it in your eyes.
This may be none of my business, but I took a stand and gave you my phone number. You have somewhere to go when you need it. Someone to call when you need a shoulder. I don't know you well, but you do not deserve this. And I care.
You work the Jewelry counter at work, and I wait for you to come talk to me, just so I can know if you're doing any better today. Please, do not hesitate to reach out to me. I care, very deeply about this. Even if I do not know why.
You are too beautiful, and you do not deserve these bruises, nor these internal scars.
Be safe, Jewelry girl.
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