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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.