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She turned to look at me then, her face curious.
I found myself reaching for her, but I didn’t touch her. Instead, I grazed my thumb along the arm of her glasses.
“These fucking glasses,” she said, sinking back in her chair.
“Yes,” I said.
“My one vanity strikes. I knew I should have gone without,” she said.
“You do have a very unique prescription,” I said.
“And I suspected you would be looking. But I needed them,” she said.
“How did you break your others?”
“One of the other pickers at the warehouse bumped into me and knocked them right off my face,” she said.
“Pickers? Warehouse?” I asked.
“Yeah. I was working at a warehouse,” she said.
“You are carrying my child, and you were working at a warehouse?”
She scoffed. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”
“How could you be so careless? The baby could have been hurt,” I said, my anger starting to rise.
“The baby was fine.”
“Why were you doing that?” he asked.
“Why does one usually work, Davit? For money,” she said.
“Something you know there was no need for you to do,” I said.
“There was a need. It was that, or be at your mercy,” she said.
“Which is exactly where you find yourself now,” I pointed out.
“Yeah,” she responded, sinking back into her chair.
I didn’t say anything else, not even when her tears started to fall.
