Well, I must say it has been a while, and I can't guarantee that it won't be a while longer until I am able to post again. I know as a reader when you are invested in a story it SUCKS when the author doesn't deliver. I have not abandoned this story. It truthfully is one of three that are my favorites to write. It will be a few more weeks until I am able to catch a break to come back and start posting like crazy. This time that I haven't had the chance to write has fortunately been a good break for me because I have been dealing with some pretty terrible writer's block.

I wish I had the time now to write, but the chapter that I had been working on is no where near complete. I explained to one of the readers that I am a bit of a perfectionist when I am trying to make a point. So the next chapter I really want it to have some feels in it. Trying to push Shraga into a place that she hasn't ever been before. I can give you a preview though. So do read the font that isn't bold if you want a preview on what I have been working on, or exit now so I don't get you guys wanting more.

The silence said it all. It was pregnant with a number of emotions. He scanned her face for the tenth time during her vigil of silence. For the life of him he didn't know what she could possibly be thinking. Neutral wasn't exactly the word he was looking for as to describe the expression she was giving him. It was more expressionless than he could ever think to describe. He couldn't show her that her silence was making him impatient, but he couldn't hide the way he nervously kept scanning her countenance.

"Say something," he finally demanded in the most even tone he could muster in her presence. Her eyes snapped to his. Goodness, staring into their depths with his own he realized how much he had missed getting to look at her. He was naive enough to hope that her eyes would be able to tell him what she was thinking as well. Nothing is what he got. How could she train herself this much to have zero emotion to be shown?

"What is there to say," she finally said. It certainly was no question. She wasn't looking for him to tell her how to feel. She was stating that there was nothing for her to say about his decision. Nothing. He was going to only get nothing from her. A sigh escaped his lips and he hung his head just a bit. What had he really expected anyways? The truth was, he hadn't really expected anything. That was because he had honestly never thought about it.

This was his culture though. There wasn't anything to be ashamed of, and there wasn't any reason she should be angry with him. Was she angry though? He really couldn't tell. Shraga was an enigma, and she was his enigma. His chest swelled with a moment of joy. He had to remind himself that she was his. Eventually the way she felt, however that may be, would pass.

"This is my culture," he surrendered, as if that was something he could hide behind as to why there was now another woman he called wife.

"I am not ignorant, there is no need to give me a cultural lesson."

Anger seeped its devastating way into his heart. Shraga knew just what buttons to push to infuriate him. He stood from the chair in a flash, knocking it on its side in the process. He came to stand an inch from her, his hand raised with a finger pointed in her face. Her breath danced across his face, and he could smell the familiar scent of peppermint leaves on her breath. It occurred to him then that her breathing was even and steady. She was not fazed by his show of anger, and she defiantly looked up into his eyes.

"I am your husband-" he started. There was a whole speech in his head, making its way to his tongue just so the words could be spoken. However she cut him off.

"Are you?" she asked.

And that is it for the preview. I know it isn't much, but hopefully you will see the work that is going into this. I love you all, and I hope in a few weeks I can share the rest with you!