I know what a sad picture I must be to this happily married mother of three— the ex-wife who never moved on, who is still haunted by the past
Goldie talks to me, but she doesn’t wait for my answers, my reassurances, and my advice. She gets that from another woman, shiny-bright-perfect Elisheva. Ima.
I wrench my hand away. She is the very last person I want to speak to now, the woman who has inherited the new-and-improved version of my ex-husband. The woman who has never experienced any of what had ruined me.
We’re not friends. We’re two women forced to coexist for the sake of our daughter. I have never lost sight of that.
GOLDIE IS TWO YEARS OLD. I am holding her tightly, and that’s the only thing keeping me upright. Tehila is standing next to me, glaring at Yossi as we leave. I am leaving. This isn’t the first time that he’s gone too far. But it’s the first that he’s crossed the one line that he never has before, done the unforgivable, and Tehila will not let me stay.
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