Page 155 of Sexting the Pakhan

“In the leg.”

“That’s usually where walking happens.”

“I can sit.”

Mila brightens. “We can sit too.”

Nadia looks at Ruslan with cautious interest. “Can you open juice boxes?”

Ruslan says, “Probably.”

I stare at him. “Probably?”

“I have opened worse things.”

“That is not reassuring.”

Mila takes his answer as a yes. “We can show him Bluey.”

Nadia says, “Bluey is emotionally advanced.”

Ruslan looks at her. “Is it?”

“Yes,” Nadia says. “Some episodes are for children, but some are for parents who need to think about their behavior.”

Ruslan glances at me.

I glare at him. “Don’t.”

He looks back at Nadia. “Then I should watch carefully.”

Mila nods. “You should.”

I should say no. Every sensible part of me says no.

But my first meeting starts in twelve minutes. The girls are fed, clean, and physically safe. Ruslan can’t exactly chase them around the apartment, and the living room is right outside my bedroom. I can keep the door open. I can hear them.

“You can’t call your men here,” I say.

“I’ll do my best,” he says.

Nadia folds her arms. “Better than your best.”

He gives her a serious nod. “Better than my best.”

I hate that he knows exactly how to speak to them.

I hate that they listen.

I hate that some tiny, tired part of me is relieved.

“Fine,” I say. “I will be in my room. Door open. I can hear everything.”

Mila cheers. “Bluey!”

Nadia goes to pick the episode because apparently that is now a leadership role.

I help Ruslan move from the kitchen chair back to the couch, though he tries to take less help than he needs. By the time he sits, his jaw is tight with pain.