“Did you and Auggie ever talk about children?” Igor asked the next morning over breakfast.
Maryruth sat in a kitchen chair, her chin resting on her propped-up leg. In one hand was a cup of decaf coffee, the other a pencil which was poised over her sketchpad. She didn’t stop her doodle when she answered.
“Yes. A few times. It came back to the same thing every time: he was a painter, first and always. He didn’t have much interest in fatherhood. And I didn’t think motherhood would happen for me. Five percent is almost zero, ya know?”
“And look what happened to us,” he said, sipping on his own coffee.
She shrugged and smiled a small smile. “Meant to be, I guess.”
“Meant to be,” he repeated.
A few minutes of silence passed, the only sounds in the room were Maryruth’s scribbles on paper. “You’re brooding.”
“No, I’m not.”
“What are you thinking?”
He sighed. “Did you use—were you with Auggie.”
She glanced up and raised an eyebrow.
“Like you’re with me?” he tried to clarify.
“You mean did we use protection?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes. I guess that’s what I’m asking.”
“Why does it matter? Aside from health, why does it matter?”
“Guess I wanted to feel like I was different.”
She rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“What? What about men?”
She lifted her chin. “You all have this need to be where no man has ever been before. Who cares if I’ve slept with twenty men or two?” she snapped. “Are you really this provincial?”
He smiled slowly. “You’ve only been with two men?”
She glared at him. “You’re missing the point.”
“Am I? Why only two, Maryruth? If you believe what you say about promiscuity, why weren’t you more promiscuous?”
“Because I didn’t have a chance. I wasn’t ready in high school, so I waited. Then I moved to the city, met Auggie. We were together for six years. And now there’s you.”
“And now there’s me,” he repeated, a smile still on his face.
She rolled her eyes, anger diffusing.
“Guess we’re done fighting, da?”
“For now.” She shrugged. “When are we telling people?”
“Not for a while yet.” Their baby was a beautiful, happy surprise—for them. But it was also a complication in the world they lived in.
“Good.” She looked relieved. “I want to wait. Until I’m farther along. Just in case.”
He didn’t offer false reassurances. Instead, he got up from the table and swept her into his arms. “Whatever happens, it happens to the both of us.”
She relaxed in his embrace and leaned her head against his chest. He wanted to curl around her, protect her from the harsh truths of life, but Maryruth was strong. At eighteen, she’d left the only home she’d ever known and moved from a small town to New York. She’d done it alone, without the support of her family, and she’d made her way in the harsh, brutal city. No wonder she was so self-assured and didn’t take anyone’s judgments to heart.
“Plans for today?” she asked, pulling back and retaking her seat.
“Meeting with Sasha,” he said. Others, too. Including Vlad and Ori. They had to move fast, and they couldn’t wait much longer. “I might be out. Late.”
“Late,” she repeated with a slow nod. “All right.”
“You just accept that from me?” he asked in amazement.
“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You have things you have to take care of. If I said to you I was going to be home late, what would you think?”
“Different. I have my family business and you have your…”
She sighed. “Yeah, fine.” She pinned him with a stare. “Just family business, right? No monkey business? With some other beautiful woman?”
His laugh came from deep within the cavern of his belly. “No monkey business, I promise.” Igor shoved his hands in his suit pockets and looked at her. “Tonight. When I come home to you, I might be—”
“Like the night in The Arena?”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked in hesitation.
“Okay,” she repeated. “Just one thing. You come home in one piece. I don’t care about anything else.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“Say something else you mean,” he commanded.
“I love you.”
“I know that. Say something else.”
She rolled her eyes. “What else? You tell me.”
“Tell me you don’t have regrets.”
“Back to this again?”
“Never left it.”
She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his. “I have no regrets. Not now. Not ever.” She kissed him, hard and fast. “Now leave.”
“Don’t want to,” he admitted.
Maryruth smiled and gently released him. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come home.”
“This feels like home to you?” He looked around. Sometimes, it still felt sterile. It belonged to him, but he wanted their home to belong to both of them.
“It does.”
“Promise?”
She laughed and pushed against his chest. “Will you get out of here?”
He shook his head, moved back in for one quick kiss, and then went to plan the destruction of others.