Neva Altaj

You are blackmailing me into marrying you. Again.”

It’s not a question, but I decide to clarify anyway. “Yes, I am.”

I have a feeling that every part of my body would become an erogenous zone if Roman touched it.

“I’m so sorry, milaya. It’s just . . . I love you so bloody much. I’m scared shitless that you may walk away one day.”

“Igor has been teaching me some Russian,” she declares.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear what you’ve learned.”

“We covered govno, chort vozmi, and skotina so far. Those are his favorites.”

“I don’t doubt it.” I reach for my phone and dial Varya, who answers after the second ring. “Igor has been teaching Nina to curse. Does he have a death wish again?”

She is not coming back.

“If you ever need me, you know my number. If you don’t want to have anything to do with me, call Maxim or Dimitri. I instructed them that in case you ever call, they are to do what you ask, and not share it with me. Please, give a call to Varya from time to time. She misses you. Take care, malysh.”

“Your father would never kill a man because of me, you know.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, Mom.”

“No, honey. It isn’t,”

Marry me,” he says, “and I’ll stop the war.”

I want to scream and laugh at the same time, but I end up crying again.

“Marry me,” he says, “and I’ll stop the war.”