He knew that his permanent night shifts had affected their relationship (along with other things) but wasn't prepared for the smack in the face he got when he overheard that this other guy had been seen coming from her room. Both of them together in fact. He knew how the kibbutz worked - gossip. Twisting, turning, changing direction with a totally different meaning at the end. A vicious game of Chinese Whispers. He had to wait almost a full day before being able to confront her with what he'd heard. And at the back of his head, should I? shouldn't I? he did talk to her about it.

Yes, he had come to her room. She'd invited him she'd said. But they were only friends.
'Yeah, sure,' he thought, 'just friends.' He left it at that. She'd made her excuses and he didn't want to argue with her.

At work he started to hear the other volunteers mentioning her name more often. That she'd spend time at the volunteers rooms. All this from other people. Not her. He kept all the anger, all the pain bottled up inside. He never asked her what she'd do in the evenings, probably because he didn't want to hear the real answer. But he also didn't want to put her on the spot. He didn't want to hear her tell a lie, when he knew exactly where she was some nights. Now he really knew he'd fucked up with all these night shifts. The only real time at night they'd spend together was Friday nights, and more often than not she'd go out from the kibbutz with friends. She never asked him if he'd like to come with them. He couldn't blame everything on his working nights but it certainly didn't help any.