“Well, that’s just it. The expectations. Of being a Frankel. It’s a lot. We’ve decided. Libby and I—”
Deena needed a new school. Like, yesterday.
Akiva rubbed his face with both hands. For a while, he’d been feeling strangely numb, like he was floating above his life, unaffected by the choices he was making.
But now, he’d been feeling a sense of rising emotions ever since he’d stormed out of the boardroom yesterday. He refused to label the feelings as “panic,” but it was getting very close.
His phone buzzed: Baruch. He pressed ignore for the third time.
He didn’t have the mental capacity for Baruch right now.
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
