He is at the door.

"You're late. Again."
Her posture is rigid.

He says
"I need to eat."

"Get it yourself."

He walks past her
fills the bowl
sits at the table.

"You're making it worse and worse.
They don't understand.
They aren't ready."
She is speaking to his back.

The spoon stops for a moment.

"What kind of fool are you?"
She says.
"You are going to be crucified
if you don't stop.

Come away with me.
We'll just disappear.
Start again."

The spoon slows.
"I have to do what I have to do."

"I'm pregnant."

He gets up.
They hold each other.
She relaxes against him.

Slowly goes rigid again.
"You aren't going to stop, are you?"

"I'm leaving."
she says,
"As soon as it's over.
I won't raise a child in this.
Your child will know you were a carpenter.
The little things.
The happy things.
But not this."

He goes back to the stew.
"You do what you have to do."

She grabs the bowl and smashes it.

"That's the difference between
men and women.
You're crucified for your principles
and we stay to raise the children."

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