"That's exactly what Konstantin is like."
"I know. They're cousins." She pauses. "Did he hurt you?"
"No. Never. He would never."
"But he didn't exactly ask permission either."
I look at her. Really look at her. She's not judging. She understands.
"No," I admit. "He didn't ask."
"And now?"
"Now... I don't want to leave."
She nods like this makes perfect sense. "Then don't. Stay. Let him take care of you. Let yourself be loved by a man who will move heaven and earth for you."
“Dimitri and I have been married eight years." She goes back to her dough. "When you know, you know. And Konstantin knows. The question is—do you?"
I think about waking up in his arms. About decorating the Christmas tree. About him saying "I love you" in the snow. About how safe I feel despite everything.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I know."
Yelena appears between us, carrying a tray of something that smells amazing. "What you girls talking about?"
"Love," Anya says with a smile.
"LOVE! Yes! This is good topic!" Yelena sets down the tray and grabs my hands. "You love my Kostenka, yes?"
"I... yes. I love him."
"GOOD! Because he loves you! So much! Since he sees you in coffee shop, he is different. Happy. Less grumpy. I tell him, Kostya, you must talk to this girl! But he is stubborn! Likehis father! So I make opportunity! I tell everyone he brings girlfriend! I know he has someone! Mother always knows! And I know he will fix problem! He is good boy! Resourceful!"
"Did you know he would kidnap me?"
"Kidnap?" She looks confused. Then understanding dawns. "Ah. He did the taking thing. Like his father did with me."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"His father! When we meet, I say no to date. I am busy! I have job! I have life! So he shows up at my work, tells boss I am done for day, carries me out!" She's smiling at the memory. "I am so angry! But also... is romantic. He knows what he wants. He takes it. This is Volkov way."
"That's literally kidnapping!"
"Is courtship!" She pats my cheek. "You are here, yes? You are happy, yes? You love him, yes?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then is good! Details don't matter! What matters is love!" She goes back to her cooking, humming happily.
Anya is trying not to laugh. "Welcome to the family."
***
The afternoon passes in a blur of cooking and decorating and last-minute preparations. The house is transformed—every surface covered in candles and garland, the tree lit up and beautiful, Christmas music playing softly.
At four o'clock, Yelena declares we need to start getting ready.
"Dinner is at six! You must look beautiful! Go! Shower! Dress! Make yourselves pretty!"
