Page 42 of Cashmere Ruin

“Like this?”

“Wider, April.”

Dear God, please, let me be reborn as a yoga instructor.“I don’t think they’ll go any wider, Dr. Allan.”

“Okay, don’t sweat it. Just wanted to see how the healing was going.”

I have no clue if this is Matvey’s idea of a punishment or my own karma circling back to me with both middle fingers up, but it feels like retribution. Either his, or the universe’s. Maybe both.

I throw a glance in Matvey’s direction and find him resolutely turned the other way.Thank God.At least he isn’t seeing this R-rated Cirque du Soleil audition of mine. “And…?”

“And you’re very lucky. Everything appears to be in order.”

“Oh, good?—”

“—despite your every attempt to self-destruct.”

I make what I hope is a pleading and adorable face. Lately, my puppy eyes have been failing me. “I was fine, I swear! I just wanted to go home and?—”

“And never call again for a month?” she scolds me. “April, I nearly went to the police.The only reason I didn’t was your husband talking me down.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Allan, I really—wait, my what?”

“Which is no excuse for your own recklessness, Mr. Groza,” the doctor presses, raising her voice to make herself heard across the room. “You should’ve brought your wife in for at least a check-up! Who even leaves their hospital bed with fresh stitches? And a whole ten minutes after giving birth?!”

“First, I want to reiterate how sorry I am,” I say. “Truly. Second—I’m no one’s wife, thank you very much.”

“Small mercies,” Matvey mutters back, dripping sarcasm everywhere in a five-mile radius. Possibly on the baby in his arms, too.

“Well, uhh…” The doctor droops back uncomfortably, glancing from one “spouse” to the other in quick succession. “Marital statuses aside, you were very lucky. Sure, the scar’s looking a bit wonky?—”

“That would be my fault,” I interrupt. “A couple of stitches came out, so I had to put them back in myself.”

“… As I was saying,” Dr. Allan sighs, pretending I haven’t spoken a word while presumably questioning if it’s too late to switch to a less stressful career, like maybe skydiving, “despite your best efforts, nothing’s broken. I’d give it a few more days to be sure, but you’re pretty much back to prepartum condition. You can go back to doing everything you did before.”

“Like lifting weights and signing up for yoga classes I’ll never go to?”

“Yup.”

“That’s great, thank?—”

“And sexual activity, too.”

I blanch. “By ‘sexual,’ you mean…”

“The very same thing that got you into this.” Dr. Allan smiles. “And hopefully back intothis, if that’s your wish. Weren’t you telling me on our very first appointment that you wanted a big family?”

Suddenly, I understand what deer feel at the sight of headlights. My head snaps automatically towards Matvey, whose head seems to snap automatically towards me, and—wait, is he pissed off?

Is he pissed off that I canuse my bodyagain?

For some reason, that pissesmeoff. Big fucking time. So what if I’ve got the green light to mess around? Surely he isn’t expecting to ever get back into my, ahem, “good graces”?

“Don’t worry, Doctor,” I say with my biggest smile. “That will certainly not be a problem for the time being.”

“If you say so.” She shrugs. “I’ll just leave you a fresh prescription for birth control, then.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean?—”

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