“Mom, why are you yelling?” asked.
I tried to keep my voice down.
“Idil, take the North into the kitchen. Eat some more cake.”
When the kids walked away, I left the photo in front of my husband.
“Who is this woman?”
The Flood has been silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke in a shivering voice.
“His name was Berna.”
“Who was Berna?”
“He was someone I knew from the university.”
“Why did you take a picture like this three months after you married someone you know from the university?”
The Flood closed his eyes.
“Because she was pregnant at the time.”
It was like someone left a big rock on my chest.
“Is the boy of you?”
My husband’s silence was heavier than the answer.
My 12-year marriage flashed before my eyes. The house we bought together, the birth of our daughter, the hard times we had, the promises we made to each other…
