“Masha’s husband is cheating,” I say as I plunge a knife into a fluffy beef pie with caramelized onions, staring at my spouse.
“Which Masha?” he tenses up almost imperceptibly.
“And they have a child,” I stretch the knife out and make a new cut in the dough with fragrant filling. “Sweetheart…”
“Yes, Yevushka?”
“This won’t touch us, right?” I smile sweetly. “It must hurt so much when someone close betrays you.”
“No, it won’t touch us,” he smiles weakly. “We’re all different.”