“They’re ours,” Roman nods toward the children. He doesn’t ask—he states it. Zero emotion on his face.
“—You didn’t think about them when you left me in hell,” I say under my breath, but with such rage that he looks away. “And yet I gave birth to them! And I raised them without you. And now you appear again, smashing everything in your path. Why, Roman? To chew me up again and spit me out?”
This time, I won’t allow it. Because now I’m a mother. And I should think more about my children!
“—About our children,” he cuts it off harshly. “Our children, Yulia—whom you so conveniently hid from me! This time I won’t let you go. If you try to stand in my way, I’ll take them. You know perfectly well what I’m capable of.”
“—You’re married, Roman! Forgot? You can’t demand anything from me!”
“—That changes nothing!”