“Congratulations on your wedding!” I say to my boss as I lift the gift package into the air. “Great, you showed up,” he answers, frowning. What? Today he’s getting married—he could at least smile for variety.
I look around: “And where’s the bride?” He runs his hand over his perfectly styled hair. “So, I know this expression. It appears only before a storm.” Leon Andreevich looks me in the eyes and says:
“You are her.”
“Didn’t understand?” I ask.
“You’re marrying me,” he says slowly and clearly. “What?” I blurt out. “What did you say?” He smiles.
“I need you to marry me, Veronika. I arranged everything at the civil registry office, so we’ll be married right now.”