I had drawn the water from the well and walked quickly away, not stopping for the looks of pity and sad farewells. I had a house to care for, and Yahweh forbid I forsake it for my own feelings of anger and self-pity.

Quickly and quietly I made the bread from the grain I had ground the day before and let rise overnight, and swept the floors to ready for the dust of the day. I threw some grapes and figs in a bowl and set them with the bread next to my husband's parcel.

I could hear him moving about in the other room, saying his prayers and praising Jehovah. The devout words and praises filled our humble dwelling. His voice was deep and soothing, even I could not deny that. It calmed me, though I found no peace in my own prayers.

His long shadow soon filled the doorway from our room facing east. "Boker tov, wife." His voice was gentle with me, as if he was afraid I would scare or break into pieces if he spoke too loudly.

I turned to greet him, forcing a smile on my face. "Shalom, Erez. Eat. I have made your bread and the wine awaits you outside."

He nodded and obediently went outside, grabbing his food as he went. This was how it went any day, every day. Nothing ever changed, except his prayers.

He knew where my boundaries were and he wouldn't cross them. I closed my eyes tiredly and rubbed my forehead. Someday, perhaps things would change between us. But in my heart I knew it would take a miracle to remove the layers of crusty anger that lay on my soul so heavily.

I watched my husband leave from the doorway, his back erect and strong as he sang his praises as he left for the olive groves, his hoe and trimmer swinging over his shoulder and wineskin in his hand. He turned back, his brown eyes twinkling at me even then as he raised his hand in farewell. I only looked away.

After he had gone I quickly ate my own meal, and grabbed my basket once again. It was market day, and probably one of my most enjoyed days of the week. I could mingle with the crowds, no one knowing my name, where I came from, what I was doing, or who I was married to. No one knew me.

I washed my face and my skin, removing the dust from the walking and sweeping. It would do little good, as I was just going back onto the streets again. But I liked to feel it. I chose the newest pretty veil Erez had given me money for. I fingered the sky blue cloth with yellow trim and smiled faintly. It reminded me of the one Tobit's mother had given me for my fifteenth year.

I could catch the best gossip near the jewelry booths, where the wealthier ladies of Jerusalem would go to admire the jewelry and fine cloth. They had much to say to each other and the vendors, having nothing better to do with their time. So I made my way quickly there, making sure to keep away from the mud and crowds of people. The Lower City was always busy on Thursdays, for the markets were open with more options and sales than ever. Raucous soldiers stood on the street corners, laughing with their fellow guardsmen and poking fun at various passing residents. I frowned at their red cloaks and glittering spears. Perhaps there were some of us that were rebellious and revolting, but the ordinary citizens did not need such a display of bullying and power. We coexisted, albeit with a heavy yoke upon our necks, and that was all that mattered.

None of my family was particularly fond of the Roman rule, but we were peaceful. We could wait for the supposed savior who would throw off the yoke of the Roman rule.

I hurried past the craftsmen's houses and shops, keeping my head down and eyes averted. Many of my friends lived there and so did Tobit. I had seen him rarely since then, and it was always in the company of my husband. That had not kept my impulsive Tobit from staring at me whenever Erez wasn't looking. I could not risk such a meeting now.

Perhaps I would try for a glimpse of him on my way home, when everyone was leaving the city. That would be well.

As I passed the last few shops, I also passed the terrace where some of our temple leaders would sit and discuss the great Law of Moses and argue over prophesies and rules. I saw some there, clothed in their long robes with many tassels, speaking in loud tones while some admiring people looked on. A priest standing close by met my eyes and nodded courteously. I bowed my head murmuring "Rabbi" and continued on. I did not need a greeting more than that. They thought they were higher than us common folk. That was fine with me. I was a good citizen, and I abided by the Law as I had been taught. I believed in Yahweh though I was hardened against Him. There was no need to have any more interaction with the priests than was necessary.

I wound through the colorful bazaar happily, admiring the cloth and jewelry, and the exotic wares from other countries. I spent a long time mingling over the crafted ornate pottery, admiring the jewels set in the more expensive ones. I avoided the groups of children running about the mazes of booths, careful not to spill any of my purchased goods.

I lingered a while behind a group of wealthy women. Several of them looked to be Roman, with their elaborate hairstyles and slightly uncovered heads, jewelry on their necks and arms. They were talking, so I edged my way in closer, just close enough to hear their conversation.

"Yes," one was saying eagerly, "They say he has been in that temple for days, teaching the crowds and lingering with the poor."

"They also say the temple guards cannot stop him. He counters every argument put against him, and his words ring true as crafted metal," put in another.

The tallest one shook her head scornfully. "It's a pity those sniveling temple leaders don't have a harder hold on their own guards. If they had, they could have removed him days ago and banned him from ever coming again."

"No. He has the favor of the masses," Another woman whispered. "If they removed him there would be a riot, or worse. There is something about him, something special that the leaders hate and the common people love."

"What could they possibly see? He is just another rabble-rouser from Galilee. He will be disposed of just like all the rest."

"This one preaches a message of peace, love, and redemption. He is not full of hate like the others," a woman that had previously remained silent, spoke up. Her eyes were alight with a soft light as she spoke to her friends. "He is a gentle man, and he heals people, not injures them."

"Well, that does not sit well with me," Said another dramatically, clearly not paying attention at all to the conversation, instead longingly looking at the fabric booth across the street.

"What is his name?"

"They call him Yeshua, or Jesus. Some say he is the Messiah," said the lady with the shining eyes.

Gasps were heard and a woman scoffed. "That is a foolish fable these Jews have. Pure and absolutely foolery." Many agreed and moved away and I stood there still, shocked.

A man of peace in the temple, lingering among the common people? It seemed so absurd to me. Was he one of the priests with their long tassels and haughty eyes? They never would be among us, the "needy and sinful." Who was this man that supposedly heals and teaches?

I shrugged my thoughts off carelessly. It did not concern me. Whoever this man was there was no possible way I would ever meet him. The teacher's messages were not for me.

Finally I tired of the specialty goods and did my own shopping. I was a good bargainer, so I quickly acquired all I had come for. Some dried fish, pomegranates, olives, and onions, and my basket was full. My grain supply was fine, so I did not bargain for any more.

I glanced at the sun. It was around one in the afternoon. I started back to my home, planning out the rest of the day. I would have plenty of time once I got home to rest or cook the evening meal early, whichever one I was more inclined to do.

I walked slowly back through the market, enjoying the sun on my face and the slight wind that pulled at my headscarf.

I passed an alleyway and a movement caught my eye, but it was too late. My arm was seized and I was pulled headlong into the dark side street, my mouth covered to muffle my cries.

I was pressed into a wall and a strong arm held me there for several moments. When the pressure lessened, I heard a familiar voice whisper in my ear. "It's me, Chava."

"Tobit!" I nearly cried and whirled around to face him, his mischievous grin greeting me. My heart was still pounding as I slapped his arm as hard as I could, causing him to grimace at me and rub it. "You terrified me. Why would you do something so foolish? Anyone could have seen us."

"I wanted to see you." He insisted and pulled me up some stairs. I glanced quickly around the old building. It was an obviously abandoned shop. The windows were shuttered and there were no views to the outside, save a hole in the roof and the door we came in. He turned to me, his eyes full of love and anger. "They took you from me, Chava. It has been months since I have seen your face alone, for Erez has been by your side every moment I have tried to see you."

I trembled from excitement and fear. "Tobit, you are not thinking. The longer we stand here, the more suspicious it looks." I glanced around anxiously. "I am a married woman. Anyone who sees me with you can say anything about the both of us, and our lives will be ruined."

"I care not!" He burst out violently. I stepped back, a little wary of the mood he was in. "You have always been mine, Chava. You feel the same way still, do you not?" He stepped in closer, making me step back again. His eyes were full of tenderness, making my fingers itch to hold his and comfort him. I was not aware that my heart could still beat this fast. I still loved him, yes. My entire sinful nature pushed me to forsake all propriety and everything I know to be true and good, and run into his arms. But that could not happen. It wouldn't.

My veil had fallen into my face. Faster than I could gasp, Tobit stepped closer to me and pulled it gently off my head. "There." He said softly. He took my chin in his hands and lifted my face. I searched his eyes fearfully, feeling so bare yet so alive. "Tell me, Chava. Do you love me?"

A shiver passed up my spine. I suddenly felt revealed. There was something wrong, something had terribly erred. "I...I...Tobit..."

My lips went dry. I wanted to be closer to him. I did not love my husband! Why could I not find happiness elsewhere, with this man I had adored for so long? He was gentle enough, he was kind. He would treat me right. Why would it be so wrong? I touched his face, holding him as gently as I could as my eyes swept over him. Perhaps...just once I could indulge in the life I had always wanted to live.

I stepped closer and he smiled, his eyes shining. "Tobit...I..." I attempted to start over, wanting to show how much I cared for him, how much I had missed him in all of my bitter days.

He kissed me. I shrieked and leaned backward, but he kept me upright. I forced myself to break away, wanting so badly to stay where he had me clasped. "You're mad, Tobit." I sobbed. "Mad and cruel. What has happened to you to torment me this way?" I did not mean it! I desired that kiss, did I not? Why could it be so wrong? My emotions warred within me as I stared at him, both of us breathing heavily.

He began to answer but there was a rustle in the doorway and his eyes flitted towards the door behind me and his arms reached out to grab mine. "Well, well." I heard a sneer in the tone of the unknown man. I whirled from Tobit's grasp, vainly trying to find the veil he had thrown somewhere. My heart smashed into my ribcage as I saw the one thing I dreaded most at that moment.

The headdress of a priest.