The Rabbi's Daughter

I remember the last time I had been at the Rabbi's house. I was too young to realize what was going on, but I remember my father taking me after prayers one day, stopping by on the way home. I remember him begging the sage for something, but the Rabbi kept claiming there was nothing he could do but that he would try his best and that "God would help". That was right before my world imploded, before the police came and hauled my father away for 20 years to life.

We looked up to the Rabbi then, seeing him as our rock and strength, I never fully understood why my mother was never as enthusiastic as we were about extolling the virtues of Rabbi Shimon, only later would I come to understand why, once I found out exactly why my father was in prison. Seems my father was scapegoated by the Rabbi and the big honchos of the community, who protected themselves while my father, an innocent secretary, ended up taking the fall for financial crimes that landed him in jail while the "righteous" important people lived their aesthetic lives in mansions while driving around in Escalades.

I had grown up and gotten work as an electrician, which is why I was here in the Rabbi's house. We were renovating his quarters, for the great man needed to have LED lights and other modernized accouterments in order to live simplistically. My plan was to charge him through the roof, but also to ruin his name and legacy forever. You see, the Rabbi only had one child, 19 year old Rivka. And suitors for miles around were trying for her hand, knowing that absent any sons the Rabbi's vast spiritual holdings (and lots of physical ones as well) would go to them as heir. Well, my goal was to ruin her, and thereby get revenge for my father's life getting ruined.

So far, so good. Everyday, during the course of these repairs, I worked alongside Rivka. I made sure to be around the kitchen when she comes home from work, knowing she would probably make a stop there. My goal was now to slowly suck her into my web, until she eats out of my hand, or better yet, other parts..

It hasn't been easy, working alongside Rivka, especially since she seemed slightly uncomfortable with my presence at first, as befits such a good holy girl. In fact, my attempts to seduce her seemed futile initially. But being the cunning person I am, I took advantage of her vulnerability - Her desperation to be normal, and not just "The Rabbi's daughter", as well as her yearning for knowledge outside the confines of the religious teachings imposed upon her by her father. One day, when she returned from work and entered the kitchen, looking tired, I seized the opportunity.

She was struggling to make dinner, since her mother was away and her father was hosting 30 people for a conference. Approaching her subtly, I offered to help her prepare dinner, suggesting some techniques to speed up the time. To my surprise, she accepted my offer without hesitation, likely because she was so tired.

Overwhelmed with relief, I couldn't contain my excitement. This was the perfect chance to break down her defenses, starting slowly.

I showed her some knife skills, making sure to get close to her, but not too close as not to scare her off. I purposely brushed against her waist ever so lightly, ensuring she felt my touch but wouldn't think much of it due to her innocence.

As we chopped vegetables together, I noticed how small her hands were compared to mine, reminding myself how young she truly was despite seeming more grownup than most girls her age. Conversation flowed naturally as we prepared dinner, discussing topics ranging from religion to politics -- all within the boundaries of what Rivka knew. It became clear that her sheltered existence left little room for personal growth beyond what her father allowed. Her cheeks blossomed with slight embarrassment, but she didn't push me away. Tonight, my intention wasn't to completely corrupt her, rather to plant seeds of doubt and curiosity within her. I knew how much she wanted freedom and experiences beyond the boundaries laid forth by her strict father and society. By seducing her, albeit mentally, it would serve two purposes -- it would sow discord among her family members and friends, ultimately bringing disgrace to her family, and more significantly, destroy the entire house of cards that Rabbi Shimon had built.

When I arrived the following morning,,I acted as if nothing unusual happened between us yesterday, as long as others were around.

Once her father left, I made my move. Going to the room where she was sitting, I shamefacedly told her that I wanted to apologize for the breach of modesty I had caused. I never should have gone so far as to insert myself into her life, and assist her, and not only that, I even spoke to her. Her eyes widened briefly, surprised by my apology. Before she could respond, I quickly added, "But don't worry, it won't happen again. Just consider it a mistake I made."

She gave a little laugh. "Oh please, you literally saved the day"

"Yeah but I wanted to make sure you didn't feel like I was doing something inappropriate"

She gave a little sigh, the movement of her pretty chest catching my attention, making me feel a little guilty about what I was doing to her. "If someone helping another person who is overwhelmed is inappropriate, then we're all in trouble."

She blushed furiously, since her speaking to an unrelated man was totally out of the realm for her. I agreed with her and continued my work, feeling content with the progress I was making. However, I also began thinking about how I might intensify my manipulation. Rivka seemed torn, half wanting to rebel against societal norms and explore new horizons, but the other half terrified of losing the respect of her family and peers.

At some point, she left, leaving me alone. However, no sooner did she leave than I began planning my next step. The thing is, while I want to harm her father, her family, and her future prospects, I can't deny that my interactions with her were becoming increasingly difficult for me. As the days passed, we grew closer. Though part of it was intentional, my feelings for her started developing genuinely as well.

Even though I know I shouldn't care about her emotions, I find myself wondering whether she knows the truth behind her father's actions towards my own father. Did she know? Would she feel compelled to deny and defend "His holiness"?

One evening, I was working on the outside lights in front of the Rabbi's home. The work was taking longer than usual, about 1130, and the winter chill was keeping the streets deserted.

As I was about to wrap up, I saw Rivka approaching. I tried to keep my cool, hiding my nervousness beneath a calm demeanor. When she finally reached me, she smiled warmly, her teeth sparkling underneath the dim streetlights. "Hello," she said softly, breaking the silence between us. Her voice carried a hint of shyness, but also a certain confidence.

Feeling emboldened, I replied, "Hi, Rivka." My heart raced as I realized I actually called her by her first name.

Her smile broadened, revealing a row of perfectly aligned pearls. "What brings you out here?" she asked curiously.

I contemplated her appearance. She looked like she had just come from a wedding. She had more makeup on than usual, and her hair looked like it had been styled, tendrils of curls setting up around her face, making her look like an angel. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath visible in the chilly night. She was wearing a winter coat that made her look pretty and petite, but she had already opened the buttons in anticipation of going into her home, so her dress was visible. She looked regal and pretty, the snow on the ground adding to the allure and beauty of the moment.

She noticed me staring and blushed. "Still finishing up?"

"Yes," I said. "The front lights just aren't behaving today. Coming from the Goldstein wedding?"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed excitedly. "The reception was absolutely marvelous! It was amazing!" She eagerly described the festivities, sharing stories of dancing, feasting, and celebrations lasting late into the night.

"Do you believe in marrying for love?" She suddenly asked, in a quieter voice, startling me a bit.

"Uh... well, personally, I do believe in finding someone who complements your qualities and beliefs. Someone who loves you, cares for you, and whom you share a deep connection with..." I answered thoughtfully, trying hard not to let my true motives show through.

She nodded, considering my response. "That sounds nice. Like the kind of relationship one should aim for." There was a pause before she continued, "But sometimes, fate takes control, and circumstances force decisions upon people."

"Like being a rabbi's daughter" she said, with a faint undertone of regret, as if she wished she could have chosen differently. Perhaps her rebellious nature was showing itself, a seed buried deeply yet ready to bloom. Or maybe it was simply a momentary glimpse into her innermost turmoil. Either way, it resonated with me on a level deeper than simple sympathy. I found myself nodding sympathetically.

"Sometimes, our destinies are predetermined by those we cannot escape," I intoned solemnly, Rivka giggled, but remained lost in thought.

I looked around, and saw we were still alone. "Is it hard? for you to have this pressure of being the Rabbi's only child and having to bear the burden of continuing the Chassidus?" I asked.

Rivka frowned pensively, considering my question. "Well, I suppose there's always that pressure - the weight of expectation placed on me by everyone else, including my father himself. It feels suffocating at times. But you see, when you grow up knowing you must carry forward such a significant tradition, it becomes almost natural. One learns to accept responsibility early on, although I must admit, it isn't easy," she admitted quietly, sounding quite resigned.

The cold air whipped around us, rustling the leaves on nearby trees.

My gaze fell on the frost-covered window sills, which contrasted sharply with the golden light streaming from the living quarters behind the glass.

"It's often lonely too," she confided, looking downward briefly before meeting my eyes once more. "Because of expectations, there are few choices open to me. Even my friends treat me with some sort of reverent distance, and I could never just...let go."

A chorus of questions swirled in my head. Why was she telling me this? What did she hope to gain from opening up to me, a complete stranger? And why did I feel compelled to listen intently, desperate to understand her inner conflict? Yet despite these questions, I couldn't help but be fascinated by her vulnerability.

I shifted awkwardly, unsure of how to respond appropriately. Finally, I offered, "It seems like a lot of responsibility for one person."

"It is," Rivka whispered, her hands covering her eyes. "I know it's so wrong, and if anyone heard this conversation we'd both be in tremendous trouble, but... I feel like when I talk with you I'm free. That you aren't talking to the rebbe's daughter, but to Rivka." She looked up at me, tears forming at the edge of her eyes.

I instinctively felt the need to hug and comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright. But I knew better. Instead, I merely nodded understandingly, hoping that somehow my presence was enough to provide solace without crossing any boundaries.

We stood there silently for a long time, neither of us willing to break the spellbinding silence. Eventually, Rivka ventured hesitantly, "Can I ask you something?" She appeared anxious, her fingers playing with the hem of her coat.

"Of course," I replied, trying to project an air of composure even though my insides were twisting in knots.

There was a moment of silence as Rivka gathered her courage.

"How do you feel about me?" she asked, her tone wavering between uncertainty and bravery. "Like, from a "friend" perspective?" I hesitated, unsure of how much honesty to give. But I decided that perhaps, in this fragile bond formed amidst the darkness, I could be honest. So, I carefully chose my words.

"Rivka, you're beautiful, intelligent, and unique -- traits many would admire. Your strength lies in your ability to seek understanding beyond what society has dictated. To value independence while upholding traditions. Your determination and defiance inspire me. Your spirit draws me in."

These words caught Rivka off guard, causing her cheeks to flush a deep red. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed by my revelation of my feelings.

Rivka lowered her head, flattered but uncertain. "Thank you...for saying that. I appreciate your compliments," she murmured, seemingly touched by my words. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to bask in the positive affirmation, feeling a sense of validation.

The initial excitement that had been coursing through her veins slowly faded as she became aware once again of the harsh reality. With a sad smile, she spoke again, "But we can't really be friends, right? Not in this world." As she shifted her gaze towards me, I could see the sadness etched upon her features, mirroring my own internal turmoil.

I wanted to argue, to convince her otherwise, but I held my tongue. This wasn't about changing her life or challenging her faith; it was about exploiting the cracks in her armor to achieve my goals. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness toward her, wanting nothing more than to shield her from harm.

"Maybe someday, things will change," she mused, her voice barely audible over the wind. "I wish we could meet somewhere far away from here, where no one knows who we really are."

As she disappeared into the shadows, leaving only traces of her ethereal presence lingering in the air, I wondered if I was perhaps becoming distracted from my original plan of destroying her father, and if I was developing actual feelings toward Rivka..

Was I truly capable of abandoning my quest for revenge due to unexpected emotions? These questions raced through my brain, filling me with a sudden urgency to return to my task at hand. I quickly finished up and went home, but I got little sleep that night.

My thoughts kept drifting back to Rivka, and the intense emotions stirred within me. Was I actually falling for her? How could I reconcile my growing affection for her with my burning desire for vengeance against her father? Could I possibly find a middle ground where I could pursue both objectives simultaneously?

Over the coming weeks, I maintained my routine of working at the Rabbi's house during the day and spending time with Rivka whenever possible. My feelings for her grew, until I could think about nothing more than trying to surreptitiously spend time with her. We both understood that our friendship needed to remain a secret. Only someone who grew up in an insular community like mine could understand just how forbidden our friendship was, the Rabbi's daughter being friends with an unmarried man, and one from such a low status family like myself. Our friendship seemed destined to end abruptly, torn apart by societal norms and expectations.

One evening, I was washing my dishes after dinner when my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, and I was going to let it go to voicemail, but decided against it. I picked up and heard a teary-voiced Rivkah on the other end.

"I know it's crazy Avraham, but I need to talk to you".

I paused for a moment, the gravity of the fact that she had called me by my first name not escaping me.

"Where? What happened, Rivka?" I answered.

"It's hard to explain. I need to talk, and I feel you're the only one who can understand me."

There was a pause, followed by a muffled sob. "Please come over tonight. Meet me at the park near the swings, at midnight. Just come, please."

Her plea was heartfelt, laced with genuine emotion. Before I could reply, she hung up, leaving me stunned and confused.

As the hours ticked by, I couldn't stop thinking about Rivka. Despite my best efforts to maintain focus on my primary objective, my mind continually returned to her. Each passing minute brought me closer to the rendezvous point, and my nerves began to rise.

Finally, the clock struck twelve, and I set out on foot towards the park.

The moon cast a soft glow across the landscape, illuminating the path ahead. Trees loomed large above me, casting eerie shadows onto the pavement below. As I approached the swing set, I noticed Rivka sitting alone underneath a tree, her face buried in her hands.

Cautiously, I made my way towards her, careful not to make any noise. When I reached her side, I sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand near her hand but not touching. She jumped slightly, startled by my presence, then relaxed visibly as she recognized me.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

She lifted her head, revealing a pale complexion marred by tears. "No, I'm not okay," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her jacket. "I just got into a fight with my mother and father. They wanted me to meet the son of a rabbi from the next town over. They thought he would make a good groom for me. I was against it, because I don't want a marriage of convenience, but figured I'd give it a try. Maybe he'd be a decent and loving person I'd feel an attraction to." Rivka said her voice filled with resignation. "But instead, he just talked about himself. The only other thing he did was talk about how great of a rabbi my father is.

I told my parents I want to have nothing to do with him, but they seem set on me marrying him. My mother said I'd get a ton of spiritual growth being married to such a holy man. I'm not looking for a holy man, I want a husband! I want someone who will love and cherish me! I JUST WANT TO BE A REAL PERSON FOR ONCE!" Rivka cried passionately, clenching her fists. "To live life on my terms, to choose whom I fall in love with rather than having it chosen for me! If I must marry, why shouldn't I choose someone I care deeply about, who respects me as an individual, who sees me as an equal partner? Why should I settle for anything less?"

Reaching out to comfort her, I placed a reassuring hand on hers, hoping she wouldn't pull away. "Listen, Rivka, you deserve happiness. No matter what anyone says, you have the power to decide your future. Don't let others control your choices. Follow your heart, Rivka. Trust yourself. And remember, whatever happens, I'll always be here for you."

Rivka looked up at me, tears still lingering in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Avraham. Thank you for listening and understanding."

She grasped my hand firmly, holding on tightly.

We sat there silently for a while, just holding hands, neither of us willing to break the spell of beautiful silence.

Eventually, the chill in the night air reminded us of the risk we were taking being together outside. Reluctantly, we stood up, taking one last look at each other before turning to leave.

"Goodbye, Rivka," I whispered, unable to hide the longing in my voice.

"Goodbye, Avraham," she replied, her voice equally yearning.

Watching her leave, I felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. Relief that she had found some measure of comfort in sharing her troubles, and sorrow knowing that our secret friendship might never grow beyond these fleeting moments.

With a heavy heart, I turned around and started walking back home, lost in my thoughts. Exhausted yet restless, I tossed and turned throughout the night, haunted by dreams of Rivka and the impossible situation she found herself in.

Morning came too soon, bringing with it the realization that I had no choice but to go to work, despite my being tired

Stumbling out of bed, I dressed hastily, grabbing my tools and heading straight for the Rabbi's house. Just before I arrived however, I felt my phone ring. I looked down and saw it was my boss calling.