Forced Silence

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Forced Silence Page 3

by Vered Cohen Wisotzki


  “So, coffee for you?”

  “No, not at this hour; but I’d love some tea, thank you.”

  She heard him fiddling with the kettle, filling it with water. She continued to imagine Doron bringing back young women to his home, as the stories told about him claimed.

  “How much sugar?” He stuck his head out from the kitchen.

  “Two sugars, thanks,” Galia responded, dozily. The heat in the apartment was quite pleasant. She saw a folded blanket on the armchair next to her and stretched out her hand to take it. She covered her long legs and put her head on a throw pillow next to her.

  “I hope you’ll enjoy the cookies, though they’re not exactly the freshest…” Doron set the tray down on the coffee table, a strange smile spreading across his face. He looked at his sleeping guest on the sofa.

  He came to her side and covered her fully. She smelled nice, and Doron felt something stirring in his body. Her long hair had fallen into her face, and he brushed it back gently. He lightly stroked her cheek. Doron hesitated: what to do? He decided to let her sleep peacefully until the morning. She needs her rest, he thought, so let’s leave the interview until the morning. Fortunately, he had nothing urgent planned for the next morning, after all. He turned to the master bedroom.

  As the sun streamed in, Galia awoke with a start. At first, she couldn’t remember where she was. She threw off the blanket and jumped to her feet, forgetting that her ankle was painfully sprained. She cried out and fell back on the sofa.

  “What happened?” She saw Doron coming out of the kitchen, a towel on his shoulder.

  He was even more breathtaking in the morning light, she said to herself. She guessed that he had already showered and shaved, and despite her mood, she could not but think about what he must do with the young women he brought home. What would he look like after a night of lovemaking, sweating and panting? A blush spread across her cheek.

  “Did I fall asleep?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.

  “Like a log. You never even drank the tea I made you. Did you sleep well?”

  Galia smiled at him. “I slept very well. So well that my foot didn’t even bother me.”

  “Yeah, that won’t go away quickly. You’ll have to rest for a few days.”

  Her face said everything. Rest? Who could claim that privilege nowadays?

  “Yes, doctor.” She laughed. She let Doron lead her to the kitchen, where a cup of coffee waited for her on the table. Galia noticed that the kitchen was clean and sparkling. Had he decided to tidy up because of her comment last night? She quickly sat down, so as not to hurt her foot. On the table was writing paper and a number of pens. She smiled to herself.

  “So how about I tell you something about me and my work in the department? You can eat breakfast in the meantime. Then you can fire away with any questions you might have.” He handed her a plate with some toast, butter, cottage cheese, and jam. She found herself smiling again. I could get used to this, she thought.

  “Absolutely, that’s a great idea.” For a moment, she regretted all of her imprecations and ill wishes directed against him the previous night. After all, she thought, he’s nice. But “nice” wasn’t close to what she really thought about him now. As he told her his life story, Galia marveled at how easy it was for him to share about his childhood and family. “If only I could tell someone about myself,” she thought out loud.

  “Excuse me, did you say something?” he asked as he sat down next to her, unable to ignore the beauty and sadness of her face. The mug in her hand trembled, splashing coffee on the table.

  “No, I didn’t say anything,” she replied, but a tear rolled from her eye and landed straight on his hand as he tried to clean up the spilled coffee.

  He grabbed her chin and looked straight into her eyes. “What?”

  The blue of his eyes was like a tranquil sea on a stormy day. She longed so much to shatter the concrete barriers she had built around her soul, to tell him about her mother, about her twin sister, about everything she had experienced recently. Still, she pulled back and desperately said, “I’m so sorry, I have to…” Her lips shook.

  “You have nothing to apologize for, nothing happened. We can continue the interview some other time,” he offered, but he cringed at the thought that Galia might leave now.

  “I have no intention of continuing to chase you, Doron Yellin,” she teased him.

  “You don’t have to. I’ll be chasing you from now on,” he declared and winked.

  She looked into his eyes, thrown off guard by his innuendo. She stood up. Only now did she notice that her clothing had been cleaned and folded neatly on a chair in the living room.

  After she had dressed, she looked for Doron to say goodbye. He was in the kitchen, washing the dishes. Finally, she thought, a man who looks sexy even when he’s standing in the kitchen. When he turned and flashed his captivating smile again, she hoped that he couldn’t read her thoughts. “Okay, so thanks for everything.” She approached him and stuck out her hand.

  He dried his hands and turned to shake hers. “Try to stay off that foot. Don’t overexert yourself.”

  “Yes, thanks again, see you around.” She slipped her bag’s strap onto her shoulder, walked away, closed the door behind her and leaned on it for a moment in disappointment.

  ***

  Now, she, too, felt disappointed, as she always did whenever Doron had to cancel his visits to Haifa. Throughout the months since their split, every time his day came around, she would wait for Doron to arrive to pick up their daughter. She had no doubt in her heart that she still loved him.

  A knock on her office door roused her from her thoughts.

  “Yes, Yael.”

  “Daniel called. He’s been waiting for you for a half-hour. He wants to know if you want him to come back and have the meeting here in the office.” Yael rapped her pencil against the doorframe to motivate Galia.

  Both of them knew that Daniel, her partner at the newspaper, would wait as long as she needed. These business meetings were just an excuse for him to meet her privately. He had hinted this from the start. She also knew that the places for their meetings had been chosen with much forethought. Every window in the restaurant had an ocean view. Galia was right to think that Daniel knew about her affection for the sea.

  He was the one who insisted on having a meeting at least once a month away from the hubbub of the newsroom. Galia enjoyed his attention and spending time with him. They had mutual appreciation after their hard-won success in turning the newspaper into a prominent media concern. Daniel had indicated more than once to Galia that he hoped for them to grow closer, emphasizing the fact that they worked so well together. He loved saying to her, “Think about it: you, me, our paper. Together, the sky’s the limit.”

  Daniel was blessed with an almost irresistible sort of charm. He was charismatic, tall, and robust, with obsidian eyes and an intense expression. In meetings with others, he was professional and on-point, but with her he was never distant or formal. Already at their first meeting, when she had approached him about becoming his partner at the newspaper, she sensed his interest in her. Now, after the split with Doron, he always addressed her with intimacy, and he did not mind letting her know about his feelings.

  She preferred to always deflect his advances with various arguments, the most prominent of them being the failure of her relationship with Doron. On top of that, she didn’t know what was more attractive to Daniel: her role in the newspaper or herself. She could feel his attraction to her, and he had said as much more than once. He even tried to show her how much, but she always demurred, trying to do so delicately so as not to harm their professional relationship. She remembered how hard it had been for him when he had to sell part of his controlling interest in the newspaper in the face of severe financial difficulties. There had been a real danger of the paper’s closing down and al
l its staff being fired. She also recalled his gratitude for her timely arrival, bringing with her a reputation for journalistic integrity — and three investors who trusted her implicitly, relying on her to use her skills to take over the paper alongside Daniel, turn it around and make it successful.

  “Galia?” Yael knocked on the door again.

  Galia zipped up her coat and pulled her gaze away from the window, picking up her bag and leaving her office. There was plenty of traffic between her office and the restaurant in the afternoons, and she had to cross a number of thoroughfares and wait through a series of traffic lights. She took out her cell phone to call Daniel. She apologized for her tardiness, assured him she’d be there soon and asked him to order their usual dishes. She hung up and continued to inch through traffic, thinking about her fateful interview with Doron and their many subsequent meetings.

  Two days after their first encounter, Doron had called her to schedule a time to conclude the interview. He was in the area for work, and he would be happy to meet her at her home. Galia smiled with satisfaction. He had said he would be the one to chase after her, and he had wasted no time doing so. In fact, barely a minute passed before he rang her doorbell.

  This part of the interview only lasted fifteen minutes. Galia recalled how much both tried to keep it professional and official, but it didn’t take Doron long to put down his coffee cup, pull her into his arms and shatter any illusion of propriety by kissing her passionately. Their attraction was undeniable.

  They took full advantage of the living room sofa, the carpet, and her bedroom, all night long. There was no hesitation as they explored their exceptional passion. She recalled every secret spot on her body discovered by his tongue and his audacious hands, which caressed every one of her curves. She could not forget the weight of his body, which she eagerly drew into her own, her thirst for him never being slaked. They were exhausted and breathless by the time dawn came, but they had no choice but to part. She had to complete her series for the paper, and he had to go home to get ready for another exhausting work day.

  Galia’s series of reports, covering the events of those tumultuous months, from demonstrations to terror attacks to police investigations, became one of the most well-regarded journalistic projects of the year. She became a sought-after journalist; every prominent paper in the country was courting her now. Even as Doron was courting her with equal alacrity.

  They met at every opportunity they could find, and within a few weeks they were married, with only a small group in attendance, mostly Doron’s friends and family.

  Galia understood that she had married a senior police officer, accepting the lonely nights in her bed after exhausting work days, paralyzed, terrified, waiting for Doron to come home safe. She knew that it was Doron being Doron: he wanted to oversee every investigation personally, and he spent most of his time in the field.

  Her deep love for Doron meant she could not wait to have his baby, and she became pregnant soon after the wedding. She hoped that this baby would motivate Doron to spend more time at home, and Doron did make an effort to do so. However, at times, his work placed onerous demands on him. This left Galia at home alone with newborn Shir for days at a time; they enjoyed their time together, but they missed him badly. He made every effort to make it home each night, but often by the time he arrived, his girls were asleep in their bed, sleeping the sleep of the righteous. Whenever this happened, Doron would sleep in the living room so as not disturb them.

  When her maternity leave ended, Galia returned to her work with new energy. Doron encouraged her to develop her career and make the most of herself. In fact, they both experience spectacular professional success during the first years of Shir’s life. Galia was now a senior staff reporter, while Doron continued to rise through the ranks.

  At the same, Galia struggled with her roles as mother and wife. Now that she was back at work, she was away from home most of the day too. Her conscience constantly pricked her, and she and Doron started fighting regularly. For his part, he loved her and desired her just as much as the night they had met. Meanwhile, Galia enjoyed her work, but she was disappointed by her family life. They both wanted to spend time with Shir, who was growing up so quickly, but it was Galia who put in the greater effort. More than once she passed up opportunities to write articles and pieces which could have advanced her career significantly. She was the one to insist that they spend more time together as a couple, and she was the one who ended up disappointed time after time.

  A few years into their marriage, a crisis arose which would cause them to split up. It was after they had moved to Haifa and she had established herself in the local journalistic community. With the meteoric rise of the newspaper’s fortunes, Our Haifa now had a considerable revenue stream, which meant the newsroom could be transferred to a newer, more centrally-located site in the city.

  To celebrate the occasion, a who’s who of Israeli journalists were invited. The event was carefully planned, and it was set to be one of the most prominent in the media world that year. Galia couldn’t wait for Doron to come home. She was in such a hurry to get to Our Haifa’s new offices that she could only think about last-minute arrangements. “See you there,” she wrote on a note she affixed to his neatly-pressed clothes.

  The newsroom was impressively decorated. The evening turned out to be a smashing success. Galia received many compliments for her contributions to the world of journalism: how quickly she had risen to the top and how good she looked doing it! She was surprised with a giant bouquet of flowers at the evening’s start. “World’s best editor-in-chief” was written on it, which only highlighted Doron’s absence. She found a choice moment to slip away to a quiet corner and give Doron a call.

  “Hello?” It was Orna, Doron’s secretary.

  “Orna, it’s Galia. What’s up?” Galia knew Orna personally and appreciated how she helped Doron in his work.

  “As you might notice, we’re still working.” Orna’s voice sounded tired.

  “I thought I called Doron’s cell…”

  “Yes, he went down to forensics and left his phone on the desk. So, how is the evening going?”

  “It’s going swimmingly.” Galia grimaced. “Look, I was going to thank Doron for the flowers, but now that I think about it, if he’s so busy, maybe you’re the one I should thank?” Perhaps it was cynical, but she felt certain that Orna had composed the inscription and ordered the bouquet in the first place.

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “I’m sorry, Orna, I know it’s not your fault,” Galia said sadly.

  “Should I give him a message?”

  “No, nothing, it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll see him later. Thanks.”

  “Bye, Galia, congratulations.”

  Galia went back to the party and decided to enjoy herself, even as she ran back and forth among her staff and her honored guests. Her punctilious nature did not allow her to leave anything to chance; she had to oversee and worry about every detail, to make sure the event would be perfect. The party went on until quite late, until the very last attendee left, seen off by Galia and Daniel. When they were finally alone, Galia collapsed on one of the couches and sighed deeply. Daniel sat beside her, offering her a glass of wine.

  “Cheers! It was a perfect evening, all credit to you.” He laughed and sipped some of the wine himself. Only then did Galia realize that Doron had never shown up, nor had he told her that he wouldn’t be coming at all. Daniel noticed the sudden change in her mood, took the wineglass from her hand and pulled her to her feet. He pressed his body close to hers, trying to slow-dance with her to the faint notes of the music still playing in the background.

  Daniel wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone. He couldn’t settle for anyone else. Galia had everything he could possibly look for. She was beautiful, smart, talented, and funny. His body burned for hers.

  She put her head
on his chest and sighed mournfully. The tears were strangling her. He saw this when he raised her head and looked into her eyes. All he wanted in the world was to wipe the terrible hopelessness from her face. He knew that he could do this if she would only give him the chance…

  “You know,” he said, stroking her hair, “you need someone who’ll be on your side always. Someone who will understand and value you, someone who can share everything with you. Someone who will adore you unconditionally.” He looked at her lips, bending his head towards her mouth. She could smell that night’s alcohol on his breath.

  “Daniel, no. Don’t ruin this perfect evening. I think you’ve had a little too much to drink, no?” Galia pulled away and put a restraining finger to his lips. His intentions were clear to her. She saw the look in his eyes. It was not the first time she had witnessed it: the look of yearning, of desire. Sometimes it even seemed resentful or threatening. She knew that she could not encourage Daniel while her heart belonged to Doron totally. She pulled further away from him as he tried to grab her again, and without another word, she quickly put her coat on.

  He asked the cab driver who took them both to wait while he walked her to the door of her apartment. “A smashing success.” he smiled, utterly ignoring what had happened between them.

  She matched his smile, but the weariness was clear in her eyes — utter exhaustion and great despondence. She desperately wanted to avoid entering her home, sending the babysitter on her way and encountering the loneliness which she refused to acknowledge and had still not become accustomed to. She had no choice but to send Daniel on his way.

  “Thanks for everything, Daniel. Good night, I’ll see you tomorrow. We have a full day waiting for us…” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on cheek.

  Daniel, on the other hand, did exactly what he had wanted to do all evening: he grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her on the lips — demanding, desperate, damning the consequences.

 

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