There was no bitterness in his voice.
That somehowmade it worse.
Because he had let me go out of love.
Not anger.
Not pride.
Love.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.
“Hersh…”
His eyes lifted instantly the second he heard my voice crack.
Immediate concern crossed his face.
Not curiosity.
Not suspicion.
Concern.
“What?”
I shook my head quickly.
Because I couldn’t tell him yet.
Couldn’t tell him.
There was never a husband
My father lied
I found the letters
He wrote me every week
I knew now he never abandoned me
If I started talking right now, I might tell him everything.
And I wasn’t ready.
God, I wasn’t ready.
“I wasn’t married,” I whispered finally.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Hersh stared at me.
Thunder rolled softly outside.
