Once they got home, Thomas was asked to carry the bags upstairs. He took Sholomoh and Ruth’s luggage into Tamar’s old room, then brought his own things into the room where Iona usually stayed when he was home.

  The space was quiet. Thomas moved to the bed, lay down sideways across it, and pulled the pillow over his head. He let out a long, muffled sigh—not loud or dramatic, just enough to let some pressure slip from his chest.

  When he sat up again, his eyes drifted toward the bookcases. A dozen titles caught his attention—some familiar, others completely new. He made a mental note to ask David if he could borrow one or two.

  There was a knock at the door. David’s head peeked in.

  David: “Look, I know tonight wasn’t easy. But I’ve got to say—I’m impressed. Both of you. Honestly, I know you went to sit up front just to keep some distance. But you controlled yourself anyway. That takes strength.”

  He stepped inside and opened his arms. Thomas stood, and David pulled him into a warm, fatherly hug.

  David: “Come down and join us for dinner.”

  They went downstairs together. At the long dining table, Thomas was seated at the far end beside Ruth. The air was calm and gentle, filled with the unspoken reverence of Shabbat. The family began with blessings.

  When it came time for the blessings of the children, David stood behind Thomas and gently placed his hands on the young man’s head.

  David: “May you be like Ephraim and Menasheh.”

  Then he moved to Shoshana and placed his hands on her head, whispering a similar prayer of blessing.

  As if choreographed over years, David and Sholomoh stood together and recited Eshet Chayil, the “Woman of Valor,” in Hebrew. Their voices wove together like a chant handed down from generations.

  David then lifted his cup, recited the Kiddush over the wine, and followed with the Motzi over the challah. Dinner began.

  Laughter and conversation flowed gently through the meal. When they finished, and the prayers after the meal were complete, David stood again. He looked directly at Thomas and Shoshana, his face steady but full of warmth.

  David: “I don’t know if I could be more proud. First, I want you both to know that I love you. We can all see and feel the connection between you. It’s strong. But what truly moved me tonight was the discipline you showed. It wasn’t about restraint for its own sake—it was about caring enough to protect each other’s dignity.”

  He glanced around the table, then back at the two of them.

  David: “And on top of that—you worked together. You figured out what Summa Theologica was trying to teach. That’s not small.”

  Shoshana lowered her gaze.

  Shoshana: “I didn’t do anything.”

  David shook his head gently.

  David: “Yes, you did. Even if it wasn’t direct. I’m pretty sure you saw something the rest of us didn’t. That’s not nothing.”

  Then, softening further, he added with a teasing smile:

  David: “Now before we go any farther, I’d like you two to say you love each other.”

  In unison, without hesitation, they both said:

  Thomas & Shoshana: “I’m all in.”

  Laughter broke out around the table. Ruth chuckled into her napkin. Iona grinned, her eyes warm.

  Then Sholomoh cleared his throat gently.

  Sholomoh: “It’s been a beautiful evening. But there’s something important we feel should be addressed. It’s sensitive.”

  He looked at Thomas.

  Sholomoh: “When your brother was helping us look into your past, he came across something you never told anyone. He kept it private until Ruth and I asked him directly.”

  He paused, voice steady but careful.

  Sholomoh: “Back in eighth grade… some girls in your class crossed a line. They touched you in ways they thought were just teasing—but if it had happened to a girl, it would’ve raised alarms. The school recorded it. Your parents were informed. But no one did anything.”

  The room grew still.

  David turned toward Shoshana.

  David: “Do you have any questions?”

  Shoshana didn’t answer right away. She took a slow breath, gathering her thoughts. Her voice, when it came, was soft and careful.

  Shoshana: “You never mentioned it? For three years? You had no one to talk to?”

  She looked into Thomas’s eyes—there was no judgment in her gaze, only sympathy.

  Shoshana: “Why didn’t you say anything? I know what it’s like to feel uncomfortable… violated. Did it include… I mean, was it inappropriate in a way that left you confused? I just want to make sure you know—I believe you. I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Thomas sat still, but not withdrawn. His voice, when it came, was quiet but clear.

  Thomas: “Who was I supposed to tell? My best friend? He would’ve thought it was cool. It wasn’t done in secret—it was right there, in the middle of class, just to see me turn red. If they could do that in the open… who was going to stop them?”

  He paused, swallowing a breath before continuing.

  Thomas: “It’s only recently that I remembered—my dad once said he thought something was wrong, that maybe I was being abused. But there was never a real talk about it. I didn’t have the words.”

  His eyes flicked briefly to Shoshana, then down again.

  Thomas: “So yeah, I understand what it’s like to be touched in ways you didn’t ask for. And sometimes… I still feel that frustration. You’ll see me pull back. But it’s only been this past week that I’ve started putting the pieces together.”

  Shoshana reached out across the table—not touching, just open.

  Shoshana: “You don’t have to work around it here.”

  Ruth’s voice came in gently.

  Ruth: “That’s the thing about healing—it doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t happen. It means finding people who help you carry it without shame.”

  The silence that followed was thick, but not heavy. It was full.

  Shoshana smiled through glistening eyes.

  Shoshana: “Still all in?”

  Thomas nodded.

  Thomas: “All the way.”