A Day Prior to Chase's release from rehab:
I sat across from my wife, watching the look on her face. She slid a paper across the table.
"What's this?" I smiled in disbelief.
"I want the best for you…" She sounded somber.
"Divorce papers?" I asked.
"Yeah. Divorce papers," she verified.
I quickly scanned the page. "Do you have a pen?" I asked.
She laughed. "Do I have a pen?"
"Read it again, thoroughly, Lior, before you even think about signing," she continued.
I picked up the papers and read them row by row. She saw my facial expression.
"Really, Penelope… really? This is what you want in order for us to be separated?! Can you be just a little bit reasonable?" I raised my voice at her.
"I told you I wanted the best for you. I am what's best for you. If you want a divorce, then you go to conversion therapy first. If not, sure, we can get a divorce, but I'm taking all your assets… your car, your boat, your company, anything your parents gave you for inheritance, and most importantly, your daughter."
I laughed. "You can't be serious?"
She smiled. "I 100 fucking percent am."
"Why do you have to be this way, Penelope?!" I yelled.
She stood up. "Why? Why am I the way that I am? You mean why am I not the same girl you knocked up 14 years ago? It's because of you! You! You! You, Lior. You think I haven't tried to get over you? I tried."
"I loved you, I still love you," she cried.
"You don't think I haven't tried to sleep and be with 10 to 20 men? It's because 14 years ago, before Caden died, you had given me the best orgasm of my life… and it- it's not just the sex. You knew me in and out… you fought for me, you fought your parents and begged them to let you be there during my pregnancy when you didn't even know if Jackie was yours. Then… and then, you got on one fucking knee and married me. I let you do whatever you wanted in this marriage because after sleeping with my father, you came home at peace with yourself… and yes, I knew the entire time because he asked my permission."
I looked at her in shock.
"I don't hate you for being gay. I hate you for making me fall in love with a gay man who I know isn't entirely gay. You slept with my father to get over Caden, and now you're sleeping with a young 20-year-old Chase because he reminds you of Caden."
I looked at her in shock, my mind racing to comprehend the gravity of her words. My throat tightened, and I could feel the weight of her revelations pressing down on me.
"Penelope, I…" I stammered, but she cut me off.
"Don't. Don't you dare try to explain or justify. You broke me, Lior. You made me fall in love with a man who could never fully love me back. Do you have any idea how that feels?" Her voice was trembling, but her eyes remained fierce.
"I don't want to lose everything," I whispered, the realization of her ultimatum sinking in.
"Then go to conversion therapy," she demanded, her tone cold and unwavering. "You need to face this if you ever want a chance to move forward—if we ever want a chance."
I felt my hands shaking as I held the divorce papers. "You really think this will fix anything? Force me into therapy, and suddenly I'll be… different?"
Her eyes softened for a moment, a flicker of the woman I once knew. "I don't know, Lior. But I do know that I can't keep living like this. You owe me that much—to at least try."
I looked down at the papers again, the words blurring through my tears. The thought of losing my daughter, my life as I knew it, was unbearable. I was trapped, and she knew it.
"Okay," I choked out, barely audible. "I'll do it. I'll go to the therapy."
Penelope's face remained impassive, but I could see the hint of relief in her eyes. She turned away, giving me a moment to collect myself. I crumpled onto the table, my body shaking with sobs.
"Good," she said softly, her back still to me. "It's a start."