Marta's breathing began to calm and her pulse went back to normal, but she still felt adrenaline pumping through her body. She stood there waiting for Ezra's reaction, she wasn't sure what he would do. Did she push him far enough that he would hit her back? Marta would take it if he did, she was asking for it, but she knew deep down, no matter how far gone and lost Ezra was, he would never physically harm her. When Ezra finally moved and pulled her into him, she felt a wave of relief course through her body. Her arms reached up and clung to the front of his shirt, feeling his muscle underneath. When he kissed her, Marta returned it, turning her anger into love and passion. She put as much intensity in the kiss as she did when she punched him. Marta wanted Ezra to feel her power and her love in that kiss. Her hands reached up, running her fingers through his short locks, and held onto his neck to keep him close. 

As they lowered to their knees, their bodies pressed firmly against one another, Marta felt the ache in her body, the need to feel even closer to Ezra. But the heat of the kiss, and all the emotions of her yelling at him, finally made Ezra crumble. Marta stayed there, keeping close and running her hands over his back as he began to cry. He cried for everything. Marta didn't enjoy having to make him fall to pieces, but he was losing himself, and she couldn't let that happen. Jeremiah probably said crying was weak, but it isn't, it is empowering. It refreshes the soul and helps one remind themselves of what they truly believed and needed. When he sat back up, Marta wrapped her arms around him and held him close, listening to his words. She didn't interrupt for fear if she did, he would stop. But he needed to get all of these words out, to remind himself how he got to be where he was. When he finished, Marta reached up and began wiping away his tears.

"You are not a failure Ezra. You are a strong, compassionate man who is willing to go to the moon and back for the people he cares about. But you have lost sight of how to do that, you are becoming the person Oscar wants you to be. You are fueling Hitler's fire, proving to the people of Germany that Jewish people are monsters. But you are't Ezra, you are the most caring person I know. You can't keep being an icon for these men in the way you have been. Violence is never the answer, you need to show them, teach them, how to be compassionate. And if they don't want to agree, then they don't care about you."

She stood, encouraging Ezra to as well. She pulled him into a hug, Marta said her part about the resistance and the war, but now she needed to make him understand her love. Glancing over at Atalia she gave her friend a look and Atalia discreetly nodded back. Marta then took Ezra's hand led him down the path a little father, before turning and taking a less traveled trail. She came to a big willow tree, and she parted the branches and walked through, pulling Ezra along with her. Once they passed the tree, they were suddenly in a small clearing. It was a small field, about the size of the cottage, and it was completely surrounded by trees from every angle. Marta walked to the middle of the flowers and grass and opened her bag and pulled out a blanket she had brought. She laid the blanket on the ground, before kneeling down, pulling Ezra down with her. She looked into his eyes for a moment before leaning in and kissing him gentle. The intensity was gone, but the love was still pulsing through the kisses. Marta kept them sweet and gentle, kissing along Ezra's face, his cheeks, jaw, nose, everywhere. She ran her hands along his chest, and through his hair, and then slowly she reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt and lifted it and removing it from his body. She ran her hands along his skin, letting them graze over all the new muscles he had formed. 

As she continued to shower him with kisses, she reached over and began to unbutton her own shirt and discarded it to the side. Both of them now topless, Marta pulled Ezra close and carefully began to lay down onto her back, Ezra laying on top of her. She broke from the kiss and looked into his eyes, "I love you Ezra Baer." And then once again pulled him into a kiss, this time the desire building. There was no need for words anymore, words only made things worse, they became fuddled and could be interpreted differently. Marta was ready to show Ezra how much she loved him in a new way, with her body. She hoped Ezra understood and wanted the same thing.