No Tears Left to Cry

By Ernest Berlin and Shirley Hess

This book is a work of fiction inspired by true events. Naomi Hertz has an opportunity to show great resilience in the face of adversity. She knows her enemies secrets and works toward finding the strength to overcome her nightmare: issues dealing with abuse, adultery, and addiction. We learn what fuels violence, bullying, and hate. In her relationship with David Milano (whom she marries), she takes an optimistic stand against oppression. This book helps find solutions by building awareness, skills, and knowledge. It works toward a movement to empower those who dare to ASK, bringing forth transformational changea metamorphosis.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483652795

Ernest Berlin

Ernest Berlin was born in a refugee camp in Regenwalde, Pommern, Germany, on October 11, 1942 during WWII. His parents, born in Lithuania, fled the country during the Russian occupation. After attending German schools and graduating from a Lithuanian High School in Germany and a military service, he continued his studies in the U.S.A. graduating from Brooklyn College in N.Y. with a B.A. in German Literatureand Linguistics. He continued his studies towards a M.A. attending the Graduate School & University Center in N.Y. He is also a graduate of a CreativeWriting Course and received his Poet Laureate Certificate graduating from a Poetic Expression Program. He received his inspiration to write winning the First Price in a short story contest and later various prizes and awards for his published poems. He speaks German and Lithuanian. Currently, he lives in Spring Hill, Florida, where he is completing the final draft of his first novel.

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Copyright © 2013 by Shirley Hess and Ernest Berlin.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4836-5278-8

                Ebook          978-1-4836-5279-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 06/20/2013

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I thank you, God, for giving me strength and perseverance.

This book is dedicated to my daughter Mariah Frances;

my niece Alyssa Nicole; my mother, Socorro;

and my brother Christopher and his wife, Karen.

That cold, dark night in December was supposed to be one of celebration, but it wasn’t. I could hear the sirens getting louder as they were approaching, coming closer every second. How can this be happening to me? I asked myself.

I felt like a deer stuck in headlights. My body moved slowly as if I became a zombie. I was not sure as to what I should do or what move should be next. I just felt myself moving in slow motion. My body felt numb. I felt the sweat dripping from my body and the cries of my small infant as I held on her tightly in fear of having her taken from me. I could see them now. The police had just arrived. I stood close to the window and heard them call out my name.

Who made the call? I heard the whispers of my enemies. She’s crazy and attacked me! You need to arrest her!

The lies and the pain of betrayal sank in at that moment. I could not believe I was hearing She attacked me.

She was the one who had struck me first! I had been a victim once again in my own home. I called the police, and she called the police right after me.

What does she think she is doing? I asked myself. And is my husband just going to stand there and allow them to take me away?

Fear took hold of me.

I can’t go to jail. I did nothing wrong. I was trying to protect my daughter and save myself.

I heard them say that they were going to kill me and make sure that nobody would find my body. They promised to kidnap my daughter if I still made it out of here alive. I still remember the haunting words that I would never see my baby again. I asked her to leave, and she did not want to listen.

What else was I supposed to do? I was the real mother, not her, and it’s the mother’s right to protect her own child from harm. Did they think that I was going to take the beatings? Just like all the other times before, when David made me pay for everything? He told me that I had made him very angry and that I was going to pay for it. I could still hear his raspy voice: I will make you pay for this. You made her cry!

Now, every time I hear the siren of a police car, I am scared. I am reminded of what happened to me when David became my enemy. A cold shiver runs down my back, and I am reminded of the 911 call I made to call the police. When time is of the essence and your life is endangered, you do everything you can.

That’s exactly what happened to me one year ago on my birthday, and the feeling I have now is that I have lost trust in David completely. Since that incident, my hopes have dwindled, and there is nothing to hold on to. The person I loved and married has become my biggest enemy. Then I also remember when I met David the first time and how our relationship started.

I tried to recollect my thoughts and recalled the first time David had shared the need to talk to me about something urgent. My office phone rang, and I could see David’s extension pop up on the caller ID.

Naomi, come into my office, please. I need to speak with you, David said. I sensed something was different in his tone of voice. I had never spoken with Mr. Milano before in private.

Sure, I am just finishing up with this e-mail, I responded.

After finishing the e-mail and locking the computer, I headed straight toward Mr. Milano’s office. This was the first time I had ever been in his office. Usually, he would meet members of his staff in the conference room when it was necessary to discuss business matters, and now, entering his office, I couldn’t help but notice the shiny gold plate that hung brilliantly and perfectly in place. It read David Milano, Executive Marketing Director. I knocked gently on the wide-open door and announced my presence.

Mr. Milano, I said softly. Excuse me, you asked me to come and see you.

Come in, Naomi, he replied. Naomi, close the door behind you.

Sure, I said, following his instructions.

Have a seat, won’t you? I promise I will not take much of your time, he said. I was hoping to collaborate with you on some new ideas for a new marketing campaign that is coming up. You are our department’s best graphic designer, and I was hoping to get some of your ideas.

You want some of my feedback? I was so confused. Why me? Mr. Milano wanted my opinion? I didn’t even think he knew that I existed. The only time he spoke with any of the staff was at our quarterly meetings to talk about updates because Mr. Milano was always behind closed doors and in and out of executive meetings.

Why so alarmed, Naomi? I have been noticing your work for a long time, he said.

You have? Really? Well, thank you, sir. This appreciation from you is an honor, I said.

I was astonished that Mr. Milano had noticed my work. It was simply unbelievable!

In fact, I was hoping to take you out to lunch today. What’s your schedule like? he asked.

Umm, today, sir? I noticed that he was staring at me impatiently.

You know, let’s make it a dinner. I will meet you at Porter’s Steakhouse at 7:00 p.m. sharp. How is that? he insisted.

Umm, okay, I said nervously.

Was this supposed to be happening to me? Mr. Milano wanted to talk to me about my ideas, and all I could say was Umm, okay.

See you later then, Mr. Milano said.

He picked up the phone to make a call. That was my cue to leave. I stood up and walked toward the door. I couldn’t help but have the feeling that he was watching me walk away, and when I turned around, our eyes met. He was.

It was seven o’clock on the dot when I pulled into the parking lot at Porter’s Steakhouse. I was running a bit late because at 7:00 p.m., I had promised to be already inside, meeting with Mr. Milano. I got stuck in rush-hour traffic because it always got busy in the downtown district, especially on a Friday night. I headed into the steak house, and the waiter seemed to be expecting me.

Ms. Hertz, I presume, he said as soon I entered.

Yes, I said.

Follow me, please. Mr. Milano is expecting you. His usual place has been set up, he said.

How often does he come to this place—his usual place? I thought to myself. The waiter took me to the very back of the restaurant in a private booth. There was very low lighting, and I could see Mr. Milano clearer now as I approached him.

Hi, Naomi. He grinned. What an amazing smile he had. His grin was so wide that I could see how perfectly aligned his teeth were. I felt my cheeks turn bright red. Thank goodness, it was dark in here.

Hello! I said, responding to his welcome greeting. I nearly stumbled into the booth. Walking in high heels did not do me any good on this slippery floor. I sat down directly across from him.

Naomi, you are sitting so far away. Come closer to me, he urged.

Excuse me, sir, I said politely.

Call me by my first name. We are not in the office, and you make me feel so old when you call me Mr. Milano, he urged.

Okay, David, I said. I couldn’t help but notice how his bright blue eyes twinkled in the candlelight.

Now, Naomi, won’t you please come closer to me? I can’t hear you when you are so far away from me, he beckoned. Naomi, I must confess that you look extremely beautiful in that dress. I have never seen you wear that one before to the office. He glared.

You mean, you’ve noticed what I’ve worn? I said, surprised.

Of course I have. That is not all that I have noticed. Naomi, you are one beautiful woman. I don’t mean to get out of line in saying this, but the truth is, I have asked you here for a different reason, he said in a soft voice. You are a smart and career-focused woman, and I have always admired that about you. It’s hard to find a lady with your qualities. I am tired of all the other women that just date me because of my money. I can’t help but sense that there is something different about you. I love your smile. I wanted to let you know that I know how dedicated you are to your work. You remind me of the sacrifices I have made.

You watch me? I asked nervously.

Naomi, I see everything. I have cameras in my office. It’s amazing what can be done with technology in today’s modern world, he said, grinning. "Naomi, I often think about us being together. I know you must be thinking I am crazy, but I can’t help but feel this attraction toward you. You are so sexy. Just hear me out and let me speak. Tomorrow you can pretend like none of this ever happened, if you want it to be that way.

Naomi, I truly believe that you are the one for me. I would be committed to you 100 percent. I know that you are not like any of the other women I have dated. You have worked with the company for over three years now. I remember when I hired you, and I have been watching you very closely ever since. I know everything about you. I have researched you and your background to know that you are a good girl. You come to work and go home to a decent family. Naomi, you are dedicated to your work, and well, I was hoping that we could work on getting to know each other more than just colleagues.

He stopped talking. He searched my face for my reaction. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with my thoughts. I was delighted, confused, and shocked all at the same time. Here I was at dinner with an executive who found me attractive and was asking me to get to know him. Mr. Milano could have any woman he wanted. Women practically fell over him, and he wanted to get to know me?

This just didn’t sound right. He seemed to be sharing this information all too very quickly. He watched me. I thought that was a bit scary when you thought of it. I mean he was an attractive, intelligent, and powerful man. Why did he want me? This must be some type of joke.

David, I think you might be confused and don’t know what you are saying. Did you have a couple of drinks while you were waiting for me? I said jokingly.

Am I? Here, this is for you. He placed a small black box on the table.

My eyes glared at