Page 162

“No.”

He comes around the chair and sits across from me again.

I appreciate that he doesn’t stay standing over me for this part.

“I used to think if I could explain myself the right way, he would understand,” I say. “Then one day I realized he understood perfectly. He just liked watching me try.”

When he does, his voice is lower. “You shouldn’t have been alone in that.”

“I know.”

The answer surprises me. For once, it doesn’t come with an excuse attached.

I know.

I should not have been alone. I should not have had to be reasonable with people who wanted my pain to be convenient. I should not still be standing here explaining a man who would never explain me fairly to anyone.

I breathe out, and my chest feels looser afterward.

Nikolai is quiet for a moment.

Then he says, “Some people use silence the same way.”

I look at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means ignoring a problem can become its own kind of cruelty.”

The answer is too specific to be general.

“Sounds like you know,” I say.

“I do know,” he says.

“With Sofia?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. “Yes,” he says.

I sit back, careful not to move my hip suddenly. “You don’t have to talk about her.”

“I know.” He looks toward the window for a second, then back at me. “Our marriage was arranged,” he says. “Both families wanted it. It made sense to everyone around us.”

“Did it make sense to you?”

“At the time, yes.”

“That sounds like a careful answer.”

“It is.”

I wait.

He continues, “Sofia and I were polite to each other. Sometimes we were good. Sometimes we were just two people sharing the same house because everyone expected us to make it work.”

“And then Anya?”

His expression changes slightly. “Yes. Sofia became pregnant very quickly.”

“That must have made everything harder.”