Marta felt a smile tug on her lips as Ezra said her name for the first time. It sounded pretty when he said. She never minded her name, but she didn’t really consider it pretty either. It was just her name. But I guess her first name was better than her middle name… Francis. It was her grandmother’s name. She loved her grandma, but everyone always called her Franny, and that made Marta think of the word fanny. It always made her giggle as a child. 

When he said that maybe she didn’t need to avoid the bakery as much, she felt a tug on her heart. Not a bad one, but a good one. He wanted her to come around again. That meant he wanted to see her, and she assumed that meant talk to her. She wanted to talk to him more. She wanted to get to know him better, better than she knows anyone. She needs to find out the little things. Like when his birthday is, or his favorite color, or what his favorite book is. But she also wanted to know the deeper things. She wanted to learn more about his religion and the traditions that came with it. She wanted to know his family. She just wanted to know him.

“I don’t think I could avoid it even if I wanted to…” she stated, meaning that on many levels, but to lighten the mood she added, “Besides, I never got to try your babka.”

She enjoyed his hands in hers, letting him twiddled with her fingers. She had soft hands; rich people’s hands that have never done a hard day's work in their life. Ezra, were more rough, but not hard to the touch. His hands told a story about his life. Marta let her fingers run over the lines of his palms, which were deeper than her own. 

Hearing him say she wasn’t allowed to walk home alone, Marta nodded. It would be dark soon, and regardless of what part of the city she was in, Marta never enjoyed walking alone at night. It wasn’t so much the fear of being attacked, though after today those thoughts would be lingering in her mind, but rather she was worried about getting lost. Even on the rich side of town, the lamp posts didn’t do much in terms of creating brightness on the streets. 

“I can call someone,” but Marta made no signs of doing that at the moment. She wanted to enjoy being near Ezra for as long as possible.

She felt him drop her hands and Marta couldn’t help but frown a bit, but then he scooted closer, their knees and shoulders pushed against each other. Any closer and Marta would be on his lap, which is something she would not mind. 

She looked up at Ezra and noticed for the first time a gold chain around his neck with a small pendant of the Star of David hanging on it. He must normally keep it tucked away under his shirt. Marta had a similar necklace, but hers had a gold cross. She wasn’t wearing hers though. Even though Marta was Christian, and was forced to go to church every Sunday, she had a hard time accepting some aspects of her religion. She believed in God and that he was looking over us, but some of the stuff said in the bible were too extreme for her. She created her own beliefs. The belief that love is most important and everyone deserves love unless they do something to lose it. Like Hitler. He didn’t deserve anything.

Marta reached up, grasping his necklace between her fingers. This tiny symbol labeled him as the enemy. It caused him and so many others to feel more hatred than Marta thought possible to exist.

“It’s beautiful” she whispered, still looking at the charm, before glancing up into his eyes. “Ezra, you have been apologizing to me all night. But it is time for me to apologize to you. I am so sorry I put you through what I did. I was being selfish… I just...I am not sure why, but I want to be near you. I don’t think I can imagine my life without you in it now… silly, I know.”

She looked away, flushed with embarrassment. She just made an awfully bold statement and she wasn’t sure how Ezra was going to take it.