“Peter, if you were a Torah Jew, I’d marry you tomorrow. But feeling as you do about Orthodoxy, it would be suicide for us to marry. We’ve both been married before. You know that marriage doesn’t reduce differences, it magnifies them.”

“I can accept you as being religious,” said Decker. “I wouldn’t interfere. All you have to do is accept me for what I am.”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“It could if you’d let it.”

“No, it couldn’t.”

“Damn it, Rina,” he said sharply. “If you loved me, you could find a way!”

Burying her face in her hands, she started to cry. Decker pulled her into his arms and let her sob on his shoulder.

Shit!

“I’d do anything for you, honey, you know that. But I can’t help the way I feel.”

Her response was to cry harder while hugging him tightly. Acid churned in his belly and his temples began to throb. He started to take masochistic pleasure in how lousy he felt. Everything in his life was going rotten, and he marveled at his reverse Midas touch.

“Honey, I love you. I want to marry you. I just don’t think I’ll ever be the type of religious person you want me to be. If you can live with that, there’s no problem.”

She said nothing.

“But you can’t live with that, can you?”

“I’d never give up this life—”

“I’m not asking you to give it up. I’m asking you to respect me for what I am.”

She didn’t answer.

They sat in silence, neither one sure what to say. The tension increased. Finally Decker couldn’t take it.

“How’re Jakey’s nightmares?” he asked.

“They’re still pretty frequent,” said Rina quietly.

“Maybe you should take him to see someone,” suggested Decker.

Rina flashed him a look of hostility.

“I know what’s best for my child, thank you,” she said.

“I’d better go home,” Decker said. “We don’t seem to be getting anywhere.”

“We’re not going to get anywhere if you leave every time things aren’t going great.”

Decker clenched his jaw and took out a cigarette. He stuffed it between his lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply.

“You want me to say the obvious? I’ll say the obvious,” he said, blowing out a plume of smoke. “We’ve reached an impasse. I think it might be best if we saw other people.”

Her eyes filled.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I don’t like it.”

The room was quiet for a minute. Rina broke it.

“If you and I were to…to maybe stop seeing each other, would you still learn with the rabbi?” Rina asked.

“No,” Decker answered.

“You mean you’re not interested in this kind of life at all?”

“No,” he answered. “I’m not—at least, not now.”