Yaakov stood there for a moment, frozen, the sweat pouring down his forehead. Leah looked at him and laughed. Reaching up, she removed his heavy black Borsalino. Then, taking a napkin off the tray of food thoughtfully provided them to break their wedding-day fast, she gently dabbed his forehead, his brows, and the sides of his cheeks.

“Can this really be happening?” he asked her in wonder, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

She put the napkin down, nodding, her hands slipping around his shoulders as she pressed her soft, dry cheek against his, rubbing off some of the moisture.

He put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers tingling with joy as he held her, filled with a happiness he had never expected to feel again and had never felt before, he finally admitted to himself. Not that he hadn’t loved the pretty young girl who had been his first wife. But they had both been so very young and inexperienced. As a yeshiva student, he had been carefully trained by his teachers and his rabbis on how to repress all his sexual feelings, sublimating them into a love of learning, good deeds, and loving the Most High.

But now, with years of marriage behind him, having experienced sexual love and arousal and consummation, he was no longer that young virgin. He pulled this beautiful, soft woman gently into his arms, as close as he possibly could, his lips finding hers for the first kiss they had ever shared. Time seemed to stop as this wild new experience enveloped him body and soul. He pulled her closer, not wanting to let go, wanting to feel the newness of her lips, how they touched his with equal passion, her body leaning into him without shyness or reluctance. He felt ecstatic.

Someone knocked on the door.

With a start, they pulled apart, shocked, then suddenly shy. They laughed awkwardly, their eyes bright with happiness.

“Tell them the bathroom’s down the hall,” she whispered to him, smiling.

He grinned. “Yes?” he called out.

“Catering. We brought you cold drinks.”

“But we already have cold drinks…” Then he understood. It was Meir and his other friends, keeping up the jollity. He turned to her, shaking his head with an apologetic shrug. “They want us to come out so they can start the dancing.”