Petya’s jaw tightened. “That was one coffee, and the ledger survived.”
“The ledger smelled like coffee for two days.”
“It improved the ledger.”
Lev looked at me. “He has commentary now.”
“He always had commentary,” I said. “The problem was where he aimed it.”
Petya’s ears reddened. “I brought the blanket Galina ordered.”
Galina rose. “You brought the blanket Oksana ordered because I approved the embroidery.”
Petya held the box out.
Oksana took it with both hands and opened the lid. Inside lay a cream cashmere baby blanket with a tiny gold S embroidered at one corner. No blue. No pink. Just Sorin subtlety, which apparently meant something cost more than my old monthly rent but whispered about it politely.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
Petya looked at my stomach, then quickly at my face. “For the baby.”
“Yes,” I said gently. “For the baby.”
His throat moved.
The first time Petya saw the ultrasound picture, he’d gone pale.
“Can the baby hear yet?” he asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “Soon.”
He stared at the grainy little shape on the glossy paper, then bent toward my stomach before I realized what he meant to do.
“I’m sorry I almost got you killed before you existed,” he said.
Vadim had stood behind me in complete silence, his hand on my shoulder. I’d cried. Vadim had looked at the ceiling as if asking God for patience. Lev handed Petya a glass of water. “Apologies work better when they don’t traumatize pregnant women,” he said.
Since then, Petya had been trying quietly, without drama. Vadim didn’t allow drama where discipline would do. Petya worked under Lev in a low-level Sorin role that involved paperwork, errands, inventory, and learning exactly how many consequences a man could avoid by not being stupid in the first place. He was watched. He was corrected. He was protected.
He was alive.
That was enough for me to start with.
Petya came to the sofa and stopped in front of me.
“You look nice,” he said.
Tamar made a strangled sound.
Petya glared at her. “What?”
“Nothing. That was very moving. Please continue with the poetry.”
“I hate all of you.”
“You love all of us,” I said.
He looked at me, and his face changed. “Yes.”
