Ruth: Reimagined

Before

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Before
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Naomi felt nothing odd the day it happened, and for that, she hated herself.

She’d overslept, and Elimilek woke up before her, groaning, at the darkness that filled the room. His bones were made up of severe exhaustion, and his muscles, the burdens. Rubbing his eyes, while internally reminding himself that he was a man, he couldn’t cry, and  work awaited him. Three hours of sleep was pure torture.

For the happiness of my family.

He had that carved in his heart. The thought made him sit up, pulling the little strength he had. He sighed, battling the thoughts that told him to give in to sleep, to give up and quit. Turning, he saw Naomi’s small body beside him, sleeping peacefully.

Naomi felt the mush of his firm kisses on her cheek, how he cradled her in his arms. “Wake up, love.”

She stirred, the cutest sounds escaping her lips, making Elimelek chuckle as he saw the frown on her face. “Go away,” she shooed him away.

Kissing her firmly on the cheek, then her ear, then on the tender flesh of her neck. “Not until you give me a  kiss.”

Still in the haze of sleep, she groaned, blowing a kiss at him in no direction in particular, making him laugh.

“Don’t waste kisses on the wall love—”

“Elimilek, leave, or I’ll push you off this bed.”

With laughter still escaping his lips, he relented, giving her one final kiss on the lips, making sure she was comfortable on the bed, capturing the sight of her face, drowning in utter comfort.

He sighed, one that tore from the depths of him. He was using her to stall. She was his sweet moment of reprieve.

“Reality check, Elimilek.” he muttered to himself, away from the warmth of the bed, the warmth of his wife.

In the early hours of the morning, while it was still dark, Elimilek prepared for work, with a heavy— fearful heart, scarred body, and the painful past memories of the humiliation he experienced, and the exhaustion, that had become his second skin, with all that and more he prepared, praying for the grace of Yahweh, and envisioning the smile on Naomi’s face.

Warm, a summer glow, everything he ever strived for since the day he  met her, and that was his strength.

“When I am with you, Elimilek.” Naomi had once said, right after, a laughing fit. Her warm brown eyes gleamed, her cheeks flushed red, and her long hair, wind blown, effortlessly beautiful.

“Happiness isn’t a fantasy. You make it real, and for that, and more, I love you, so, so much. I hope I make you happy.”

Eventually, Naomi woke up. She felt the gentle nudging of the Lord when she almost gave into laziness and decided that maybe Elimilek wouldn't get hungry.

Woman, you know your husband.

She was up, preparing both his breakfast and lunch, working under pressure, because he had to leave for work in seven minutes.

When Elimilek kissed her goodbye, his hands holding her body, familiar, delicately—a whisper of a caress, then firm, with want and love. She laughed into the kiss, shooing him away, not lingering, like she should have done, or bringing him closer, telling him to stay, to not leave, fighting maybe a little harder.

All the things that she should've done and for that she hated herself.

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