She couldn’t have imagined how successful her channel would become, and that frightened her more than she would admit

If you’d have asked Yossi Kellerman four years ago if he’d mind if his future hypothetical wife used social media, he would’ve shrugged and said, “I’m not her boss, and I think it’s healthy if a husband and wife have separate interests. Why, you have a girl for me?”

But now, on the other side, he realizes that the Yossi of four years ago is a fool. And a little stupid. And more than a little naive.

He’s definitely not Rivi’s boss, but if he could, he would take all of social media and go at it with a chainsaw like a madman.

In other words, yes. Yes, he minds.

Except… How can you really mind the source of your financial stability as you blissfully sit in the beis medrash three sedorim a day?

“KellerMAAAAN!”

Nachi Benisti. Only Nachi shouts across the beis like he’s out on the field for Motzaei Shabbos football.

Yossi gives a little salute and waits for Benisti to catch up. He blows on the coffee in his hand, enjoying the scorching heat of the paper-thin cup. Of course, he could technically donate cup holders or thicker cups to Beis Ahron’s coffee nook, but why call attention to the fact that his kollel budget is slightly larger than your average Yossi’s? And really, if he would donate anything, it would be a better AC unit. Those summer days brought new meaning to sweating through the sugya.

Benisti finishes clapping guys on the shoulder and high-fiving the bochurim in the back two rows and catches up with Yossi at last.

“Kellermaaaaan! Ready to shteig for real?”

“Like a rebbi,” Yossi says dryly.

He can’t help it. The louder Benisti gets, the quieter he feels inclined to act. It’s not the nicest defense mechanism, but honestly, Benisti couldn’t care less. And the two learn so well together, Nachi could bring a bullhorn and bellow the Tosafos at ear-splitting decibels and Yossi still wouldn’t leave him. He’d never had a chavrusa before with such stellar attendance, and for Yossi, it was all about showing up. If his chavrusa was a bit weak, that was totally fine. But if you had poor attendance, then it’s Kellerman, out.

He thumps down in their spot, puts the coffee down in the farthest-right corner, and cracks open a Kesubos.

Benisti sits down across from him and whips out a Tupperware. “But firrrrrrst!”

Yossi sighs in appreciation. Benisti’s wife seems to feel that the four-and-a-half-hour morning seder requires a home-baked snack every day, and Yossi Kellerman is not complaining.

“Pumpkin biscotti, maple glazed! Courtesy oooof —” Benisti taps out a drumroll that jolts Yossi’s coffee — “Reel with Rivi!”

Yossi watches the small rivulets of coffee make their way under the table and wishes he could join them.

“I’m good, Nach. No thanks.”

He’s lost his appetite.