B etrayal.
That was the only word for what Aviva was feeling. She’d never felt so betrayed in her life — and to think it had come about through her own husband.
She was reminded of that day Naama had dropped by the clinic. Zevi had never really understood her family — how deeply her mother affected her how much of who she was had been shaped by the woman who would be walking through her door any minute.
That was the only possible justification she’d been able to muster for Zevi’s epic act of betrayal. Although it wasn’t quite enough to get her to speak to him again for a very long time — at least until the baby was born. Or married.
Zevi to his credit had seemed to recognize at least a small portion of his mistake. The overwhelming panic that had taken hold of her had been kind of hard to miss. And the fact that her instinctive reaction was to jump off the couch and race for her mop appeared to give him at least an inkling of how his scheme had backfired. With no choice he’d grabbed the mop from her hands and set to work cleaning.
