“No, I’mpissedthat I have sat through eleven million dates and never once have I evenwantedto touch someone like that.” He took a deep breath, and she realized that whatever he was about to say was a lot harder for him than she’d realized. She bit her lip, willing herself to stay quiet rather than attempt another joke to break up the tension. “That spark… it’s never existed for me. For a long time, I didn’t think it mattered; I figured that was how everyone was, but that somehow, they just knew when they met the right person to spend their lives with, and if I went on enough dates, I’d know it too. But the more chuppahs I stood under, the more I watched these couples stare at each other with bright, shining eyes, having made this monumental decision to spend their lives together, the more I started to question why it seemed to click for everyone but me.
“And then I asked a friend—my chavrusa, actually—how he and his wife chose each other, and the way he described it… I just realized it was like I’ve been trying to golf on a football field during the Super Bowl.” He rubbed his eyes. “That’s a terrible analogy.”
“It’s not,” she said softly. “I mean, it is, but I get what you’re saying, so maybe it isn’t.” Lord knew she’d had that feeling before, the one that made her wonder why she was utterly incapable of domesticity and settling down when people like Liana and Bella and Emily seemed to be born with the abilities to do everythingfrom cook a Shabbos meal to change a diaper to write a perfect thank-you note.
As if by being a thirty-year-old Modern Orthodox woman who couldn’t do those things… she was on the wrong playing field entirely.
“Well, then I had to adjust to the idea that maybe I’m not a person who feels physical—sexual—attraction, which is kind of a blow to someone who very much wants to start a family.”
Oh. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but it was not that. “You definitely do not kiss like someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction.”
He snorted. “Thanks, I think.”
“But also—”
“I know there are lots of ways to start a family. And I know it’s perfectly valid not to feel sexual attraction. If one of those things is what you were going to say.”
“Both of them, actually,” she said with a faint smile.
“Well, thank you.” The curve of his lips was similarly slight, but it was there. “Regardless, it was an adjustment. Of all the things I pictured potentially getting in my way, it was… not that. And it isn’t just the procreation part; it’s…” He shook his head, clearly having hit the limit of how much he wanted to open up. “But I had some time to sit with it, was maybe at the point I could finally accept that that’s who I am, and it wasfine—freeing, even. I could stop trying so hard to be something and someone I’m not, maybe even find a wife who feels the same way, work through it together.”
“Did you try?” she asked quietly.
“Not yet,” he grunted. “I didn’t… I couldn’t figure out how to ask a shadchan for that, and I certainly couldn’t get comfortable enough on a date to discuss it. And now…”
She waited for him to complete his sentence, but after several seconds of silence, she prodded, “And now?”
“And now I know I’m capable of wanting to tear a bridesmaid’sdress in two with my bare hands, so I’m back to square one. Maybe Iama little mad at you. And that’s not fair. I’m sorry.”
She was quiet for a beat. “I forgive you. I’m a little sympathetic. And I’m deeply turned on. Is that bad?”
He laughed lowly, his gaze darting to hers for the first time the whole ride. “There are worse things.”
The ensuing silence felt warmer, almost companionable. She opened her mouth to direct him to her building but shut it when she remembered he knew exactly where she lived. Sure enough, he pulled up in front a couple of minutes later.
Neither made a motion to open her door.
“So.” He still wasn’t looking at her, but he put on the hazard lights anyway.
“So.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “Wanna make out?”
He threw back his head and laughed, and it was a relief to see. She wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone as tightly wound as Judah Klein. And while the sexual tension of the moment had passed, it was possible she might not hate it if she bumped into him at another wedding.
Then his face grew serious again. “Arielle—”
“Secret’s safe with me,” she promised, not wanting to hear him finish that sentence, to hear him ask her to bury that night entirely. “You take the time to figure your shit out, and I promise I’ll keep tonight to myself. Just a freak incident no one needs to know about.”
The relief in the sag of his shoulders was palpable. “Thank you.”
“Thankyoufor the ride,” she said with a brief smile. She opened the door and glanced over. “It was a good kiss, though, wasn’t it?”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?”
His lips curved up, just a tiny bit. “Yes, Arielle. It was a good kiss.”
Satisfied, she got out of the car, closed the door behind her, and watched him drive away.
