When they pulled into the driveway, it became almost comical how quickly Thomas and Shoshana scrambled out of their respective cars. They nearly collided at the front steps, each clearly headed for their own room—neither willing to look at the other too long, nor slow down enough to risk it.

  Myriam followed a few steps behind, watching them with an amused sort of awe.

  They didn’t speak. They didn’t touch. Yet they moved with such synchronized urgency that it felt rehearsed, almost choreographed. Each vanished down a separate hallway, and had anyone been watching from above, they might have seen a perfect mirror of motion: two doors closing, two bodies collapsing face-first onto beds, arms flung over pillows to smother a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a scream.

  The kind of release you only allow when no one else can hear it.

  David, still standing by the car, let out a laugh. “Dad—what do you make of that?”

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  Sholomoh raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “I want to say it was expected. But seeing it play out like that?” He shook his head. “Honestly? It’s hilarious. If I didn’t know them, I’d think they’d just had a fight and couldn’t stand each other.”

  David chuckled. “That argument could be made. But my money’s on something else. Being that close—and not being able to touch—has to be exhausting. Mentally. Emotionally.”

  Ruth came up behind them, her expression soft. “You missed the scene in the courtyard,” she said. “I would’ve taken a picture—if it hadn’t felt too sacred to interrupt.”

  David looked over. “So they were still keeping their distance?”

  Ruth nodded. “Very much so. But you have to remember last night to understand why. What did you tell them they could say to each other?”

  “I told them they could say ‘I love you,’” David said. “I thought they should express whatever affection they were holding back.”

  Sholomoh laughed quietly. “And instead, they both went with ‘I’m all in.’ It was funny at the time—but I feel like I missed the punchline.”

  Ruth’s gaze went distant, thoughtful. “After the adoption ceremony—when Shoshana kissed Tzuriel—Tamar said she looked completely dazed. She asked her what was wrong. Shoshana told her that Thomas said he loved her.”

  “But he didn’t actually say the words, did he?” David asked.

  Ruth smiled. “No. Shoshana told Tamar, ‘He didn’t say “I love you.” He kissed me—and what I heard was, “I’m all in.”’”

  Sholomoh leaned back, quiet now. “So maybe that was their ‘I love you.’ Maybe the words weren’t the point.”

  Ruth nodded. “I think they chose something sacred instead. Commitment has its own language.”

  She paused, then added softly, “Some things don’t need to be spoken. They just need to be lived.”