Demolition Before the Bloom

my voice. She knew what it meant.

“Who?” Eleanor asked.

Just one word.

“Richard,” I said.

“What did he do?”

“He put his hands on me. In front of the kids.”

I pressed the bloody towel harder against my split forehead.

“I’m bleeding, Eleanor. He shoved me into a table. He did it in front of his whole company.”

“Where are you?”

“Oakwood Country Club. Westchester.continue reading …