INT. MENDELSON LIVING ROOM – LATE NIGHT

  Thomas and Shoshana sit together on the couch, their virtues journals resting quietly in their laps. The house has fallen into a hush, save for the faint ticking of a wall clock and the last embers of conversation from the kitchen. The two sit close, the silence between them thoughtful and full of unspoken feeling.

  Shoshana (quiet, reflective):

  What do you think about Zeb’s offer?

  Thomas exhales slowly, turning his journal over in his hands.

  Thomas:

  You want the truth?

  Sometimes you’re the only person who doesn’t expect anything from me. The only one who really sees me. And that… scares me.

  Some days, the only reason I don’t just break all the rules is because I want to go on a mission. I can’t explain it—not fully. Just like I can’t explain why, despite everything, I still feel like I belong in this organization.

  He grips the edges of his journal, voice low.

  Thomas (cont’d):

  People say I’m making a difference. And yeah, I see it. But I never set out to be that guy. Some days, I feel like nothing more than a tool—just being used to push something forward.

  Shoshana (gently):

  Can I ask you something?

  What does that mean… for our family, after your mission?

  Thomas’s expression softens.

  Thomas:

  When Iona spoke to me—really spoke—he asked for one thing:

  That I remember you were the reason I stayed. That you would be my wife. A Jewish wife.

  Even if you joined my faith, you would still be Jewish. And our children… they would be Jewish, too.

  Shoshana blinks, taking in the weight of that.

  Shoshana:

  I didn’t know that.

  Aren’t you… torn between the faiths?

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  Thomas (shaking his head):

  No. It’s not about salvation—it’s about being worthy of joy in the world to come.

  And right now… I can’t imagine that world without you in it.

  A beat. Then Shoshana’s voice, hesitant but curious:

  Shoshana:

  What if I did join your faith?

  Where would we be married?

  Thomas (smiling softly):

  We’d be sealed in the temple.

  And we’d marry under the chuppah.

  Her breath catches.

  Shoshana:

  Really? You mean that?

  Thomas (raising an eyebrow, teasing):

  Are you calling me a liar?

  Shoshana (quickly):

  No—I just… I thought it had to be one or the other.

  Thomas (firm):

  I think I’m already Jewish. Your brother gave me that choice.

  Shoshana looks at him—really looks.

  Shoshana:

  I knew your choice—the way you kissed me… that was how you said you loved me.

  But I didn’t understand what it cost you. The choices behind it.

  I don’t even know what to say.

  Thomas reaches for her hand, eyes steady.

  Thomas:

  As far as I’m concerned… I will keep choosing you as long as you choose me.

  In a world full of strangers, you chose me.

  You have no idea how much that meant—especially that day.

  Her voice drops to a whisper, filled with vulnerability and longing.

  Shoshana:

  Then if you love me… you know the limits.

  But—for once—don’t hold back when you kiss me.

  I need to feel everything you keep locked away. I want to feel that passion. I want it to scare me.

  I want to lose control… and then I want to pull back.

  Thomas pulls her in, gently at first—but their kiss becomes something more raw, more honest. For the first time, she feels him without restraint. Their bodies press together in an embrace filled with clarity and chaos, devotion and desire.

  And then—

  Tamar (O.S.):

  Finally, you two.

  They freeze as Tamar steps into the room, arms folded, her tone exasperated but not unkind.

  Tamar (cont’d):

  Now, put a little distance between you.

  She gently guides Shoshana back to her side of the couch and shakes her head.

  Tamar (sighing):

  Look, I get it. You've been aching to feel something real, Shoshana—and you did.

  But I overheard what you said. All of it.

  She turns to Thomas, eyes serious.

  Tamar:

  I thought the idea of you going on a mission was… ridiculous. But hearing you tonight?

  I finally get it.

  This was your choice. Your one choice before everything around you turned into a circus.

  Then she faces Shoshana.

  Tamar:

  And you? I don’t think you really understand what Iona asked of him.

  I didn’t either—not until I heard it in his voice.

  This life? We were born into it. Our community, our rituals, our expectations—they were always there.

  Tzuriel wasn’t part of it. He came from the outside. You and Veronica went to school with him, and still didn’t know him.

  So when we say, in prayer, “with all your heart, mind, and soul”—that’s not poetic.

  It’s real. And he made that real.

  So the question about Zeb’s offer?

  It’s not whether Thomas will take it. He will.

  The real question is: what can he do with it?

  Because to me… it’s him offering you and us the same promise he made to Iona. And to himself.

  And if he’s asking for two years of your patience—two years to finish what he started—then that’s what we give him.

  But if you can’t wait…

  Then tell him now.

  Because he already knows what this is. And what it means.

  Silence settles over the room. Shoshana’s eyes flicker to Thomas’s, filled with new awareness—and something that almost feels like reverence.