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“My mom took me to my first lesson when I was four. I started with more intensive training at six.”
“Fifteen years. Must have been hard to leave all that behind.”
“The hardest thing I have ever done. I could have stayed, played some side roles with less demanding choreography. Fewer jumps. Instead, I decided to retire. To leave while I was still at the top. It’s vain, I know.”
“It’s not vain.” I take her hand and brush my thumb over the inside of her palm. So soft. “What happened with your voice, Bianca?”
I feel her go still. She pulls her hand from mine, takes a sip of her orange juice, and looks somewhere behind me.
“I was eleven. Father was driving me to training. It was Sunday, around seven in the morning. There was a party the previous night, they were celebrating something. He was still slightly drunk. We crashed.”
I watch as she takes a deep breath and looks at me.
“They said I wasn’t breathing when the ambulance came. They had to intubate me on the spot. The paramedic who did it was young and scared. He messed up something. Damaged my vocal cords.”
“And your father?”
“Dislocated shoulder.”She smiles and looks away. “Bruno Scardoni is like a cockroach.”
It’s evident that she doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.
“I’m sorry.” I reach for her hand and kiss the tops of her fingers.
Someone needs to kill that bastard.
I don’t like the way Lena’s teacher is looking at Mikhail. From the moment we entered the playroom, she has been throwing looks in our direction every now and then, so I move closer to him and wrap my arm around his waist. The teacher talks about some books that parents should buy for next month’s activities, and, for a moment, her eyes wander to me, looking me over from head to toe like she is sizing me up. It’s evident she is into Mikhail, and I don’t like that one bit.
After she is done listing the materials, some of the parents gather to discuss the kids, but Mikhail and I stay in the back and wait until the crowd dissipates. As we approach the teacher, I let my arm fall away from Mikhail’s waist, and decide to stay a few steps back. It doesn’t feel right to butt in.
“Mr. Orlov,” the teacher says in a sugary voice. “We haven’t seen you for quite some time.”
She is pretty, in her early thirties, and based on the huge grin on her face, shereallylikes my husband.
“How is Lena doing? Any problems?” Mikhail asks, ignoring her comment.
“Oh, Lena is a wonderful child, so well-behaved. You are doing such a great job with her.” She bats her lashes at him like a lovesick schoolgirl, and my vision goes red. I cover the few feet that separate me from them in two seconds, wrap my hand around Mikhail’s waist again, and smile.
Mikhail’s arm comes around my back. “Miss Lewis,” he says, “This is Bianca. My wife.”
I can’t remember the last time I felt as much satisfaction as I do now, watching her eyes go as wide as saucers. That’s right, bitch. He is taken. As you should have already deduced yourself.
“If that’s all, we should go. Lena is waiting for us in the hall.” Mikhail nods toward the door.
“Yes, of course.”
As we are leaving, I throw a look over my shoulder to find the teacher watching us. Without moving my eyes from hers, I slide my hand from Mikhail’s lower back down until it lands on his rock-hard ass, and I can’t resist squeezing just a little.
When we exit into the hallway, Mikhail bends to whisper in my ear. “Did you just squeeze my ass?”
“Maybe,”I mouth and do it again.
“Daddy, Daddy!” Lena hops up from the little bench on our right and runs to jump into Mikhail’s arms. “Can we go buy my parakeet now, Daddy?
Mikhail sighs and kisses her forehead. “Yes.”
We drop by the pet store on the way home, and Lena chooses a little blue parakeet. While Mikhail asks the store attendant for the guidelines on feeding, Lena and I go to the rack on the left to pick up some bird toys. The door to the store opens and two boys Lena’s age rush inside, followed by their mother, and run toward the fish tanks displayed on the wall.
“Mommy, I want a goldfish!” one of the boys yells.
