Tag: female abuse

I met my oldest friend Greg for coffee when the allegations were at their height. We did not speak of them at first. I inquired on his health, which led to an inquiry on his family, which led back to the allegations. “She’s shut me out,” Greg said, meaning his wife, who had moved from their Manhattan apartment to their daughter’s place in Brooklyn. “Not a word in weeks.” Greg sipped his coffee and his eyes moved shiftily from side to side as if gaging whether anyone from the coffee shop was listening in. “But you believe me, right?”