Page 71 of Letters From Victor

“I know, and that’s what makes this so difficult. But we can’t go on like this.”

Frank shoved his chair back and stood so abruptly it crashed to the floor behind him. He gripped the edge of the table, eyes pleading. “What did I do, Barb? Tell me what I did, and I’ll set it right.”

“You didn’t do anything.” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Damn it, I almost wish you had. It would make this easier.”

“Then what?”

“We’ve just grown apart. We were so young when we met, and we didn’t see each other very long before we whisked off and got married. You were just back from the war, and I was twenty-one. How could either of us have known what we truly wanted?”

Frank paused and studied me. “What are you saying, Barb?”

“I want a divorce.”

His face crumpled like a starched shirt left out in the rain.“A divorce?”

“Yes, Frank. A divorce.”

He stood motionless. Processing. Calculating. “On what grounds? What have I done?”

“We’re just no good together.”

The calculation was over. His eyes narrowed, and his voice turned sharp. “Who is he?”

“What?”

“Who is he?” he repeated, a bitter edge curling his lips. “A woman doesn’t just walk away without a reason. And don’t feed me that ‘we grew apart’ nonsense. You’re a smart girl, Barb. I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out.” He jabbed a finger at the letter from my mother. “Your mother seems to know all about it. So I know there’s someone. Who is he?”

“Does it matter? It changes nothing.”

“Of course it matters! I at least deserve to know who I’m being thrown over for!”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Fine. I suppose you’d have found out anyway. It’s Victor Cardello.”

Frank inhaled sharply, like I’d knocked the wind from his lungs. He repeated the name, soft and venomous. “Victor Cardello.” He curled his fingers into fists. For a moment, I thought he might lunge. Instead, he slammed a hand onto the table, rattling the salt and pepper shakers. “Damn it, Barb!I knew it!I never should have let you near him.”

“He’s not the reason, Frank. This was coming long before Victor.”

“Oh, spare me!” His laugh was hollow. “You’ve had one foot out the door since you went to work for him. How long, huh? Since the beginning? How long did it take for you to—” He gripped his jaw, cutting himself off.

I stiffened. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not blind, Barbara. And I’m not stupid.”

“I never planned this, Frank. I swear to you, I never did.”

“Oh, that makes it better?” His voice was all acid now.

My cheeks flushed hot with anger. I forced myself to meet his eyes. “No. But it’s the truth.” I paused. “I never wanted to hurt you, Frank,” I said softly, almost tenderly.

“Well, you’ve done a bang-up job of that, haven’t you?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. He paced the kitchen, raking a hand through his hair. “Victor Cardello? Christ, Barbara! Have you lost your mind?”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I said, my voice steady. “Victor and I love each other.”

Frank let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Love? You think that’slove? He’s using you, Barb. Men like him don’t fall in love. They take what they want and move on.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” I shot back, my pulse hammering. “He’s different with me.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is.” Frank sneered. “I bet he tells you you’re special. That you’re not like the others. That you’re the one who’ll change him. That’s what men like him do.”

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