Though I heave a sigh, I bat my hand at him in the universal sign for “fuck off.” No ASL required.
When he leaves, I let her cuddle into me for as long as she needs. Finding it remarkable that this woman, this goddess, weeps for me.
“I hate that you had to turn to crime just to survive,” she confides.
“There’s no point crying over spilled milk,kotik.”
“What did you want to be? When you were little?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes. It does.” She pulls back to stare at me, her eyes red-rimmed and watering. “To me.”
Gently, I press my thumb to the corner of her eye where a tear track is beginning to form. “You’ll laugh.”
“Maybe I won’t.”
“You will.” Seeing that curiosity has overtaken her sorrow, I nod to myself. “I know you will.”
“You don’t!”
“I do.”
“Tell me!”
I roll her over, smirking at her shriek of laughter as I tickle her. My hands caress her body with love, but I definitely drive her to the edge as she squeals.
But she doesn’t forget…
“Tell me!”
“I wanted to be a chef.”
Her fingers stroke my stubbled chin. “The recipe book!”
“Ridiculous, huh?”
“Not at all.” She turns into me, her arms sliding over my waist again. “You could still do it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“I think it’d be good for you.”
“Hardly!”
“I’d be a willing guinea pig.”
“Kroshka—”
“Maxim. Don’t make me bite you.”
“Not a threat?—”
“I can make it be. You want me to study. You insist on it. You don’t let me cut classes. You want me to have an education. Why wouldn’t I want the same for you? It’s not like you can’t have someone come and teach you the basics! Heck, didn’t you say Niko’s wife writes recipe books?!”
I press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll think about it.”
She sniffs. “You won’t.”
