Coming To Terms

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Sitting at the table, Tommy waited for Paul to put coffee in front of him. He drummed nervously on the table top as he thought about whether to tell Paul why he had actually left. 

"Are you okay, Tommy? I know I probably shouldn't have confronted you about the marks, but I was concerned. You hid them fairly well but not good enough to where the road crew couldn't see them."

"Yes, I'm okay. At least I think so. Physically I'm fine. Emotionally not so well." He put his head in his hands as a steaming mug of coffee was placed in front of him. 

Paul thought he saw a stray tear as his guitarist looked up briefly. When Paul passed behind Tommy to get more coffee, he saw a handprint on the back of his neck. 

"You're not physically fine either. How many bruises are you actually hiding?"

"J-j-just the ones on my arms. I mean one."

"Then why is there a handprint on the back of your neck?"

"W-w-what?"

Paul took Tommy to a mirror and handed him a smaller one. "Look. You can see it in the bigger one." He stood Tommy in front of the big mirror and turned him around. "See."

The guitarist's eyes grew wide as he noticed his neck. "I had no idea." Tommy's hazel eyes filled with tears. 

Paul guided him back to the kitchen and had him sit down. "We're going to eat breakfast and then we'll talk."

A silent nod was followed by quiet sips of coffee.

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