Page 15 of Leviticus
“This? This one bag contains all of your belongings?” I questioned. I must have had the most ridiculous look on my face as she blushed and laughed so softly I barely heard her and nodded.
“Yes, that is everything I own,” she explained. I had a lot of thoughts about that, but instead chose to let it go.
“Very well. I will take it to the bedroom, but first, would you like to see my home —er, our home, I suppose?”
“Perhaps tomorrow? I’m feeling quite tired. It’s been a long day and honestly, I would like to get cleaned up, if you don’t mind,” she asked.
“Of course. Right this way.” Before I could walk away, her small hand touched my wrist, stopping me dead in my tracks. It was the first time she had touched me since reaching for my hand in the dark of that dreaded room. I looked down at her small fingers laying over my skin and then up to her face where she smiled sweetly at me.
“Thank you, Leviticus.”
I couldn’t find the words, so I gave a small noise of acceptance and led her up the staircase and to my room. Our room. I entered the bedroom, the once welcoming deep greens and dark browns now feeling strange with this new person here to share its space.
“Well, this is the bedroom. I have made space for you here in —” The sound of a soft sniffle drew my attention away from the closet and to the small woman who stood there in the door jamb, looking as lost as could be. “Ruth?”
I walked quickly back over to her, wanting nothing more than to take her into my arms and comfort her; however, that could very well be the worst thing I could do at a time like this. She’s been touched by enough men who she had not given consent to. I would not add my name to that list any more than I already had.
“I just —” her voice caught on a stifled sob.
“What can I do?” I asked quietly, feeling helpless and borderline hopeless.
“I just,” she paused, taking a deep, cleansing breath in an attempt to regain her composure. “I suppose I’m a little overwhelmed.”
She gave me a watery smile and I couldn’t help it any longer.
“Ruth, I am so sorry.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. I knew it wasn’t what a husband, a man of Zion, would say, but I was so tired of it all tonight. The last few days had drained my energy. Having my mask firmly placed for so long, pretending to be someone I wasn’t hour after hour, had exhausted me.
“Why are you sorry, Leviticus?” she questioned, true concern shining in her dark eyes.
“For what? For today! For what happened.” I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling defeated. My elbows rested against my knees as I hung my head in my hands.
“For the inspection and the consummation, you mean?” she asked quietly after a long pause. She had moved nearer to me. I could feel her presence there before me like the air between us crackled. It had to be the high strung emotions and stress we had both been under all day long.
I didn’t have words, so I simply nodded, unable to look in her eyes. I couldn’t see that sadness, that fear, that pain residing within their depths again.
I felt the bed shift as she sat on the edge of the bed next to me. In my peripheral vision, I saw her shoulders slump and her hands flop in her lap.
“I will admit, that was unexpected,” she stated with a sigh.
“For you, too?” I chuckled with absolutely no humor. There was nothing funny about the fact that I had just —
“You could say that.”
“I didn’t know… well, I did, but I —” my voice cut off, unable to find the words to express just how I felt at the time. I raised my head finally, my eyes finding hers. I saw the confusion there. But no fear. She seemed to study me for a long moment.
“You really didn’t, did you?” her soft voice pierced the quiet.
“I knew parts, but not… not that, Ruth. I didn’t know that it would be like that. If I had I —” My words ended as her hand rested on my arm, effectively shushing me.
“We both did what was expected of us. Nothing more.” And in that moment, this young, small thing of a woman nearly brought me to my knees. Something that had never been done before.
“I meant what I said. It will all be okay. I will take care of you, Ruth.” I spoke my promise in that room, on that cold September night. A promise that was more deeply felt and more true than any of the vows I had spoken that entire day. I may not love her. I would not stay with her. But for as long as we were in this situation, I would care for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly. “If you don’t mind, could we do the tour and such tomorrow. I find myself very tired and in want of a shower.”
“Of course.” I took her hand there on my arm and lifted it to my lips, kissing the back of it softly. There was nothing great about the gesture. Lord knew I had done far more with women at Abditory. Yet, I doubted I had ever committed such an intimate act in all my life. “Right this way.”
I led her to the bathroom, taking in her shocked expression at the opulence of it.
