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"I'll never forget the first night my boyfriend hit me," Charlotte recalls thoughtfully, tracing a heart pattern on her frosty Coke glass. "I don't know why I was surprised; he'd threatened to often enough. I sat and cried like I'd never stop. He wrapped his arms around me and began saying how sorry he was. At first I ran away from him, but eventually, I let him put my head on his shoulder while I cried. "He begged for forgiveness. He said he had just lost his head . . . it wo...
