“Don’t come near me!” I demand, thrusting my hand forward and stepping back. But David, with a smirk on his face, keeps slowly closing the distance. He tilts his head to the side and stares at me intently. One last step, and I’m pressed against the wall, and David’s chest is right against my hand.
“Don’t come near,” I plead, now in a quieter voice, with my lips already dry. “You’re my husband, Vasylisa,” he says, and removes my hand.
“A contract husband,” I whisper even more softly.
“It’s time to become real,” he says, reaching from behind me and lifting me up.