My heart dropped. Oksana didn’t make anything up. Kirill is right here with her. Heading to the city of dreams. Like a punch in the gut. It’s unbearably offensive. But I don’t have the strength to refuse to hear the truth.
“I told her everything!” I blurt out.
“Who?” My stomach twists like a knife. My husband chose to celebrate his birthday with someone else.
“Your wife!” — “Are you out of your mind?!” I try to challenge it, but my numb fingers won’t move. There won’t be any more anniversaries. She was whining, curled from the pain, while in my ear the voice of the traitor was screaming:
“Asya, are you there? Asya?”