Page 44 of Leviticus
I dried off and put on my pajamas, readying myself for bed. Perhaps I would get lucky and I would fall asleep before he came to bed. Then I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes.
Would it be pity?
Would it be laughter at my naivety?
Would it be concern?
Would it be anger?
All I knew was that I didn’t want to wait up to find out.
The bright morning rays woke me abruptly. Usually, Levi closed the curtains when he came to bed. I rolled over, noting his absence in our bed and the coldness of the sheets.
He hadn’t been to bed at all?
I should have felt worried, but I felt anger. He wouldn’t even join me in bed now? I felt the anger and frustration rise up within me. I threw back the covers, not bothering to even brush my teeth or give myself a glance in the mirror before I was storming my way down the stairs and to his study. I threw open the door. I wasn’t going to knock. He said this was my home as well, so I should be allowed in here too.
I had expected to see him still hunched over my stack of journals. The journals were stacked neatly on his desk. He was nowhere to be seen. I turned and made my way to the kitchen, my hands still fisted at my sides. I found him there, his hips wiggling to an unheard song as he whipped something up in a frying pan on the stove, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder haphazardly.
I cleared my throat loudly, my hands on my hips and ready for an argument. He flipped around, a wide smile I had never seen on his face.
“Good morning, Ruth! Did you sleep well?” I was taken aback by his attitude, or lack there of. He was happy. Happier than I had ever seen him. I shook my head, settling back to my frustration, unwilling to let a pretty smile and gorgeous eyes derail me from my path.
“No! Not at all!” I all but spat at him. His face immediately fell.
“Oh, no! What’s wrong?” Concern was etched over his face, and I was completely confused.
“What is wrong with you?” I sassed. The question was serious, but this morning I was filled with frustration and sass, apparently.
“Why didn’t you sleep well?” he tried again.
“Because you never came to bed! That’s why!” I screeched. “Listen, I don’t know what you expected, but we took vows, Levi. I get that you don’t want to touch me. I get that you don’t want to share our marital bed in the biblical sense, but just leaving me alone all night while you were off who knows where —”
“No! No, no, lovely. No.” He set the pan down and rushed to my side, taking my hands away from their fisted position on my hips and holding them within his own. “Sit. Please. Let me finish breakfast and then let’s talk. Okay? I’ll listen to whatever you want to say. I’ll answer any questions, but please, please just wait. Okay?” I was unsure what to say, so I simply nodded my head hesitantly and sat down at the table. This was like some alternate universe compared to the last ten days of my married life, and I felt unable to quite get my bearings.
I watched in silent confusion as he plated the breakfast he had made and sat it before me, but instead of setting his own plate across the length of the table, he sat directly beside me. I looked at him with complete confusion.
“What?” he asked, his fork poised over his food.
“What is even happening right now?” I asked, half defeated, half confused. He set his utensils down and took one of my hands in his.
“Nothing bad, I assure you. I think we need to start over,” he began.
“Start over? What does that even mean?” I sighed heavily.
“Yes. We should start this entire marriage business over. You and I were both pushed into the marriage, this arranged marriage, outside of our own desires and our own free will. This last week and a half, Ruth… I don’t know about you, but it has been such a hell in a handbasket kind of situation.” He smiled, chuckling, and I couldn’t help but smile along with him. He was right. It had been.
“It’s been miserable,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I suppose it hasn’t been the easiest of transitions into marital life,” I agreed, realizing that my anger was quickly dissipating.
“Great!” he exclaimed, hitting his open palms against his thighs with a smile. “So, let’s begin anew. Hello, there. I’m Leviticus, but those who are closest and dearest to me call me Levi.”
He held his hand out to me in greeting. I looked at him, the almost boyish charm mixed with the little snippets of man I had seen over the last ten days.
“Hello there, Leviticus. It’s nice to meet you,” I finally greeted, putting my hand in his and shaking it firmly. “I’m Ruth.”
He pulled my hand in close, flipping it over and kissing the back of my hand.
