Abir always enjoyed spending time in Judah. He traveled there often as part of his work on the Council of Elders. The capital city was always bustling in a way that his home city sometimes wasn’t. Plus, the markets always seemed to carry more goods and there was a vendor that sold sweets that his daughter adored. That was what had brought him to the markets that night. He was a bit late, having spent most of his day in the chambers with the Council. As satisfying as Abir found that work, he often missed being out on the streets. After a long day, he would often walk the streets to think and stretch. His father had left for their rooms, leaving Abir to take his time.

He wandered the stalls, taking care not to take too much time for he knew that the shopkeepers would want to head home to their families after long days of their own. Luckily, he knew exactly where the sweet shop was, quickly making his there to make his purchase. The merchant always had a new suggestion for Abir’s daughter to try. Abir took the man’s advice, for he hadn’t led Livana wrong. This new flavor he promised would be a big hit.

“And a treat for your sweet wife,” the merchant added with a wink, slipping something additional into the bag. Abir began to protest, wanting to pay what was fair, but the man would have none of it. “It’s the least I can do for a loyal customer. I am sure your wife misses you terribly when you’re gone so often.”

Abir walked away feeling an intense pang of guilt. In fact, this trip he hadn’t thought of his wife once. It had almost been a relief to find time away from Katriel. They had been married for most of his adult life—over ten years now. He supposed that they ought to be closer than ever, but if anything, they were further apart. When Abir had realized this, he tried harder, wondering what he had done to lose her trust and confidence. The past few months, he had done everything he had thought possible to make her happy. He had come home earlier, spent less time traveling. His daughter had loved it, but it seemed to make no difference to Katriel. She showed no signs that she was any happier with him.

And children. Abir wanted more children. Livana was ten years old now. She should not be so much older than her siblings. Yet, Katriel claimed not to be pregnant month after month. A part of Abir wondered if she had been doing something to stop it from happening. Of course, he would punish himself for such thoughts immediately after, his wife could not do something so wicked.

These negative thoughts occupied his mind, filling him with guilt. Perhaps that was what led him to the flower stand. He needed to make it up to Katriel. She liked flowers. He was heading home tomorrow afternoon. He could bring these flowers for her. Abir selected some nice looking ones without really thinking about it and was about to turn to the merchant when suddenly a very loud sneeze came bellowing in his direction followed by a high pitched squeak from the woman next to him.

He hadn’t been paying her too much attention before, but turned fully to her now, witnessing her apology. A smile came to his lips as he recognized her—they hadn’t seen each other in some time, but Abir was very good with faces. Besides, he could not forget someone like Talora. Her question registered a moment later and Abir wiped down his clothes as if to say it was gone, in the past. He had a ten-year-old daughter. Messes were of no consequence to him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, more concerned that she might be feeling unwell from the flowers. Ascertaining that she had already paid the merchant for the flowers, Abir knew suddenly that he could not allow her to walk home carrying them. She would not make it.

“Hello, Talora,” he greeted, “It’s lovely to see you again. It seems that God has placed us together tonight. Can I carry your flowers home for you? I’d hate the thought of either of you suffering on your way back.” It would be a shame if she dropped them in another such sneeze.

He wished more than anything to take away some of the embarrassment that she was clearly feeling. Truly, Abir didn’t mind. He’d had a lot worse happen to him. This was mild. And the cause of it was quite lovely, though the man felt sorry that the flowers were clearly distressing to her. Talora explained why she was purchasing them and Abir smiled genuinely in response. Very sweet to put herself through the trouble to make sure that her sister was happy. It only solidified Abir’s desire to make sure that both Talora and the flowers got home in one piece.

For he had to admit, he had ulterior motives in wanting to walk her home. It was nearing dark and he wanted to make sure that she arrived safely. However, Talora had always struck him as rather independent, in some ways not unlike his own sister, and he wasn’t sure how she would respond to him wanting to ensure she arrived safely.

Perhaps he was mistaken, however, as she said she would be glad for his company. Abir smiled, happy for the meetings that had run late, leading him to meet Talora at this very moment. “I quite understand the desire, these flowers are beautiful. I am returning home tomorrow and my mother enjoys flowers herself. We were in meetings all day today, but I could not resist visiting the market before returning.” He took the offered flowers, careful to keep them away from her as not to cause any more sneezes. Abir then paid the vendor for his own purchase, giving him a little tip for staying open late for them. It was much appreciated.

“Your sister is very lucky that you would risk such a journey for her,” he said, as they set off in the direction of her home. They fell into a comfortable pace, Abir carefully keeping the flowers as far from Talora as possible. It was a wonderful evening for a walk, he thought. Although the days were still full of light, they had passed the time of year when the longest days were in front of them. In a matter of weeks, the sun would begin to set earlier and earlier. Still, Abir loved this time of year when the heat of the summer began to lessen, especially as the sun set.

It reminded him of better times when he and his wife would sit out in their courtyard, watching their daughter run about and tire herself out before bed. They didn’t do that anymore, but whether it was because Livana was too old or the pair simply didn’t seem to be able to spend any time together anymore was anyone’s guess. As uncomfortable as that thought was, the gentle feel of this evening with this person made Abir feel different. At ease. It was a nice feeling.

“You can repay me by telling me how you’ve been,” Abir said, smiling at Talora. “I can’t recall exactly when we last saw each other, but it’s been too long.”

Abir was jealous, in a way, of her freedom. At least of her freedom to visit the markets daily. And to not be relegated to business and inherited duties. Of course, as a woman in their society, she was not quite so free. Abir recognized that. He could not understand completely what it was like to be a Judean woman, but he did realize there were restrictions. In fact, his sister reminded him quite frequently of such things. Sometimes he thought that if she could leave Judea altogether, she would. He wondered how Talora felt about such things. Abir had once asked his wife how she felt about their society, but she hadn’t really given it any thought at all. It wasn’t her place to question, she’d said. Abir always thought it was exactly their place to question. They had the luxury when so many others did not.

Of course, he generally kept such thoughts to himself. They were not widely held and nobody ever seemed to want to talk about such things. As a member of the Council of Elders, Abir was meant to uphold Judean ideals and society, though he found himself questioning things more than ever. Certainly more than when he was young, though he had always been curious by nature. However, when he was younger, he simply wanted to discover things. He wanted to learn how things worked. Now, he wanted to dissect and take apart what he knew and determine how to improve it. Sadly, most did not live in the same way.

“I can see why,” Abir remarked, returning his thoughts to the conversation at hand. “It is wonderful here.” Talora seemed a bit shy around him, so Abir kept his polite distance, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Though, he certainly didn’t want her to feel that he didn’t care to converse. Abir was genuinely interested in her. He had heard rumors, yes, but paid them no mind. He liked to make up his own mind about people. That was the critical thinking that he applied to their society as well.

“Well, it doesn’t sound that you are making bad decisions to me,” he replied, pleasantly, liking how much she cared about her family. It was sweet. He too, could relate to spoiling members of his family with gifts on occasion. What was money for if it wasn’t to spend on those one loved. “I have to admit, I too often impulsively buy for my family.” He held up the bag of sweets in his other hand as an example. “Does my daughter need sweets? Probably not. But I know she loves them and I love to spoil her. It’s our prerogative as family.”

He supposed it was asking too much right now for her to tell him more. He was genuinely curious and interested, but they were just getting to know each other again after some time. He couldn’t expect to ask for such trust so quickly. Besides, he was a man. It would surely be easier to converse about such things if they were of the same sex. Though, he was finding their conversation easy thus far. In many ways, easier than talking to his wife. What an odd thought.

“I long for that sometimes,” he replied. “My days are often spent running from one place to the next, unable to catch my breath. It seems there is always some emergency in the city I must attend to. But my family is well, thank you. My daughter is ten now. I can hardly believe that she isn’t such a little girl anymore. My mind won’t accept it. But I am constantly amazed by her. She is a force to be reckoned with.”

That was, if his wife didn’t snuff the flame out of her. Abir instantly chastised himself for thinking poorly of Katriel, but the voice inside told him it was true. He felt like he constantly was picking Livana up after Katriel knocked her down. However, he would do it as much as it took, until his daughter could stand for herself. None of this inner dialogue showed on his face. Abir presented a kind smile to Talora, not letting her know anything was amiss in his mind.

“What would you do differently if you could?” he asked, thinking back to her comment of everything being the same. What were her dreams for herself?

He liked hearing her talk of her sister. It was nice to hear someone talk so fondly of their family. Family was one of the most important things to Abir. In fact, family surely ranked at the top. Even before Yahweh, though he was sure their God would be forgiving of such a thing. Though could he say that with complete honesty? Katriel was his family, but Abir had not felt close with her in some time. Despite his best efforts they had drifted apart. Then again, perhaps he wasn’t applying his best efforts these days. Maybe not even for a long while. Abir didn’t know when he had fallen out of love with his wife, but he had. Of course, he could never admit such a thing.

Abir raised his brows slightly when Talora told him that her mother was the same about gifts. He knew her mother, though not well, but she had always seemed so strong and independent. Knowing that she was kind about gifts made him soften towards her. “And you?” he asked, “What do you think of such gifts? Assuming they’re not flowers, of course.” He could hardly assume anyone would be overly generous receiving a gift that made them ill. Though perhaps he was wrong. He could see his own mother pretending to love such a thing.

Her thoughts on his daughter were not unlike many he’d had himself over the years. It was like every time he blinked, she was getting older right before him. He was not yet ready for her to become a young woman. For him to have to think about her future in a home with another man. Some days Abir still felt like he wasn’t much older himself, let alone old enough to have a ten year old. Livana would always be his little girl and he was thankful that he still had a few years left before he had to seriously consider what her future might be.

Abir glanced at Talora, finding himself once again surprised by her. He didn’t know why he was so surprised—but in many ways it was almost as if she could deduce his own feelings before he could even put a name to them. He was silent, mulling over her words, thinking of the women in his own life and their marriages. Or their desire not to be married at all—thinking of his sister. Were all men truly so terrible? What was their society? These were the kinds of thoughts that kept him awake at night sometimes. Pondering their existence and how he could do his part to make things better.

“I hope that my daughter will stay with me forever,” he said slowly, beginning lightly. “Though of course she will not. Your words…they describe what I have always wanted for her, but not known how to characterize it. Livana—all women—deserve to be their true selves. It is unfortunate our society does not always allow for that.” He looked down, ashamed to be caught out loud questioning their society, but strangely comfortable in sharing such things with Talora. Abir had never before shared these thoughts with anyone and yet…with her it felt all right.

“I hope my daughter will follow her own path—perhaps accepting guidance when she asks for it, but I would never force her to marry anyone she doesn’t want to.” As heir to their house, he ought to be thinking about strategic advancements for their family, but it broke his heart to do so. His daughter’s happiness meant more to him than any alliance. Of course, it was a constant battle within him—trying to find a balance between seeking his father’s approval and letting his daughter find her own happiness. And he had his wife to contend with. She likely did not agree with him.

He had not been expecting to have such a deep conversation tonight, but it suited him. It had been so long since he had able to share his deepest thoughts and feelings with anyone. Maybe Katriel when they were first married, but she had lost his confidence for some time now.

Their conversation turned and Abir made a promise not to share what Talora told him, only to be surprised to find that she would not change anything. He wondered if he could say the same about his own life. Would he have forgone his relationship with Katriel if that meant he never had his daughter? The choice was unthinkable. “I understand you,” he replied slowly. “When I think of my own life, there have been…mistakes….but they have led to some beautiful outcomes. Still, I suppose that doesn’t mean the future can’t be different, doesn’t it?”

He had been following Talora’s directions without much thought, finding himself completely absorbed in their conversation. It was nothing like what he had thought it would be. It was better.

Abir was aware of the restrictions in their society that might lead others to look upon the two of them with suspicion. However, he also believed enough in the power of his position and his reputation that others would not think so poorly. He was a married man on the Council of Elders, after all. Of course, this would probably be easier were they in his home city. He was far more easily recognizable there. Abir was on all of the streets so very often due to his position and made it part of his duty to know as many people as possible. He, and his family, were very well recognized in Jerusalem. That was probably not the case here.

Suddenly, Abir was overthinking his interaction with Talora, hoping he wasn’t putting her in a compromising position. There weren’t many people on the streets this evening, but there only needed to be one person to start a rumor. Abir hoped that he wouldn’t cause her any pain, though he did believe in the greater good of walking home with her. What if something worse were to befall her? Not that he thought she was weak or anything of the like. It was just that Abir was more trained to help in bad situations.

The man stopped himself from the overthinking that would likely lead to some spiraling thoughts. He could get this way sometimes and it drove his wife crazy, so he mostly kept it to himself now. But he didn’t want to get into this way because truthfully he was enjoying this conversation with Talora. He was so very interested in what she had to say, how she was thinking. He rarely had conversations like these with his wife anymore and found this to be like oxygen to him. He was breathing in deep, feeing filled with a satisfaction he forgot could exist with another person. Of course, that probably wasn’t entirely appropriate given that he was married and she was not, but he felt it all the same.

Abir drank in Talora’s advice about his daughter, struck again by the differences between her and Katriel. His wife was not so kind when talking of their daughter’s future. She wanted different things for the girl and Abir had struggled against that for some time now. He knew that it would likely only get worse as she got older and wanted—no, needed—something to combat Katriel’s words.

“Thank you,” he said softly. For all he was dissatisfied with his wife when it came to raising their daughter, Abir would not speak poorly of her in front of someone else. It was a private matter. Yet, he wanted Talora to know just how much her words meant to him. “I hope she knows that she can trust me, but I worry that she will be too afraid to speak her own mind when it comes to matters of the heart or her future. I want her to have as much autonomy as she can, but of course there are competing voices in our family. Everyone has their own idea of what might be best for Livana. What more can I do? What would have made you feel comfortable to speak with your father when you were ten years old? A teen? She has so many female figures in her life, I don’t know that she would seek my advice over theirs.”

It was an intimate question, though he couldn’t help but ask it. He could talk to nobody else about these matters and Talora seemed open enough. Abir glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, wondering what she was thinking about all of this. They were both carefully apart, not appearing to look improper, but their conversation was something he wouldn’t have thought to have outside of his family members. And perhaps not even with them.

Conversations of the future were even more delicate still. It was daunting to go for what you truly wanted instead of what duty was expected of you. Abir had never quite managed to break free of his duties, though he knew that neither of his parents had been thrilled about him joining the city protectors. Now, it was seen as an advantage, but it certainly hadn’t been at first.

“I think I probably fall into the latter category,” Abir admitted, then quickly glanced at Talora to see if she would react negatively. Abir wanted so many things in their society to change, but could never see a way to actually get things done. He was just one man.

“I wish for a future where my daughter has the freedom to do as she pleases, without worry that her family will love her any less or that she will be cast out by society. I wish that we might truly be as accepting as we claim to be. That we stop being so blind to the problems in our society and make it a truly equitable place for everyone—where social classes fail to exist and we take care of one another. That the rules aren’t so rigid. That our claims of our God’s love for everyone are enacted in our daily lives.”

He wished for so many things. But he had never said them out loud before. Abir wondered what Talora might think. Would she cast him away as his wife had when he had mentioned one of these? Or would she have an open mind?