Size Doesn't Matter?!

“Ella Borisovna, men are waiting for you in the street!” Sasha blurts out, tearing herself away from working with the child.

I look out the window: one man paces nervously around his “Bentley,” the other, arms crossed, watches the entrance.

A quarantine is in effect—they don’t even let parents into the nursery.

I take a closer look, and my heart stops: the first one seems familiar.

It was him—I scratched the car by the registry office and then disappeared.

And the second… the would-be fiancé I dragged away from the altar and ran off with… with a Tiffany ring on my finger.