Page 92 of Unhinged

And before I can stop myself, I shake my head again.

No.

That’s not why.

“Surgery?”

I shake my head again. Too late, I realize I may have told her more than I meant to by default.

She’s quiet for long minutes, massaging my tense muscles.

"Someone did this to you," she says in a low voice.

And I realize, when I shake my head to deny it, it’s too late.

She knows.

When I don’t deny it, maybe it’s confirmation.

But thankfully, Polina doesn’t ask any more questions.

A heavy knock sounds on the door.

"My god," she says with a laugh. "Matvei does nothing half-assed, huh? He’s always been that way, from what I’ve heard."

"Open up!”

“You can come in."

Matvei walks in, carrying so many bags it looks like it’s Christmas morning.

I smile, shaking my head.

"Did you buy out the store?"

He scowls. "It’s Sunday. They weren’t open. Stupid fucking laws."

I bite back a smile, even as the pain lingers.

"Do I want to ask how you got everything?" Polina asks, her eyes twinkling.

He smirks at her. "You told me to get this shit, and I got it. So, no."

"Come here, Matvei. Your hands are bigger than mine, so you’ll probably do a better job than I will. When the contractions happen, you need to put counterpressure right here."

She takes his hands, placing his fingers exactly where they need to go.

"Pressing here will help alleviate some of the pain while I get what she needs, okay?"

When his large hands take the place of hers, she’s right.

His handsarestronger.

At first, he’s tentative, as if he doesn’t want to hurt me.

"It’s okay," I whisper. "You can press harder. It feels good."

Polina is rifling through the bags, making sounds of approval.

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