Her lips twitch with a smile. “Whatever you say, Sergey.”

  I promised Galina three dates. I still owe her two, but I'm struggling to think of what to do with them. Ideas will come to me, I'm sure. Since the team party, things have been better with us. The only tension that remains is sexual tension. The downside is that since I last spoke to my mother, advising her to leave Galina alone, I'm getting more phone calls. A taste of what Galina had to deal with is what I now get to experience. In an odd way, I'm thankful. It's easier to see things from her point of view.

  It’s tiring to have to speak to them so often and about my relationship with Galina. So far, I’ve been limiting the information to nothing of substance. I’ve been hinting that it’s none of their business in hopes that they’ll stop asking, but no such luck so far.

  Today, though, I somehow got roped into taking Scotty's girls, Stephanie and Stella, and Raelynn's son, Jackson, to the local ice rink. Possibly even more surprising is that Galina decided to come along. The kids just wanted some ice time to skate. The twins are a bit competitive with one another and Jackson has been learning.

  “Will you skate with us too?” Stephanie asks me after they've laced up.

  I wouldn't mind, but there's Galina.

  When I glance at her, she smirks. “I know how to skate too.”

  Ah, that's right. She dabbled in figure skating when she was younger. With that, I confirm that I will be on the ice with the kids. Galina heads over to the rental counter for a pair of skates while the rest of us lace up our personal skates. The kids hit the ice as soon as they are ready, but I hang back, waiting for Galina.

  It's crazy how practically any ice rink can feel like a second home of sorts. My muscles relax the moment I see the gleam of the ice. My lungs breathe a little easier. Galina likely doesn't feel quite the same. I believe her skating was pushed on her by her parents.

  The kids request my presence to participate in races, so I happily oblige. Galina keeps to herself, skating as if she’s been doing so regularly all these years. After a bit, the kids seem content to entertain theirselves and I skate over to Galina.

  “It’s weird seeing you with kids.”

  I glance over at her, curious. “In a good way or bad?”

  “Good. It’s just something I didn’t really connect with you, but then, I still see seventeen-year-old Sergey most of the times.” She surprises me by reaching over and taking my hand. A flicker of a smile plays on her lips. “It’s startling to see that in my head and then look at you. Very different.”

  “How so?” I ask.

  “You’re definitely not a teenager anymore.” Her eyes give me a quick once-over.

  I laugh. “Neither are you.” Pulling her snug against me, I kiss her quickly, mindful of the kids with us today. Being physical with her seems easy and natural. The rest? We’re still working on that aspect. “I’ll round the kids up and we’ll get ice cream before we take them home.”

  “Sounds good.”

  After getting ice cream and dropping the kids off, we return home. An idea has formed about our next date by that time. I’ll have to look into that later.

  “Why did my mom ask for a grandchild if we weren’t together?” I ask, curious. After spending time with the kids today, children in general are on my mind and I’m trying to figure why my mother would push that on her. What’s the logic behind it?

  Galina shrugs with a sigh. “I don’t know. She tried to tell me I was getting up in age and that now was the time to act if I ever wanted children. She said that I was holding you back from having kids by not being with you, and keeping her from grandchildren because I was neglecting our marriage. That’s the gist of it.” She cocks her head at me, tucking her legs underneath her on the couch as I take a seat next to her. “She really never mentioned us to you?”

  “No. She never even asked if we spoke or what my plans were in regard to the marriage.”

  She rolls her eyes and looks irritated. That’s not really the mood I want her to be in and I regret asking. On the other hand, I’m glad to know more about what she dealt with specifically with my parents. It also causes my anger to rise at my parents. They have no business talking to Galina like that.

  “I’m sorry.” I feel like I’ve apologized a lot on their behalf lately.

  Galina smiles. “It’s not your fault.”

  The rest of the afternoon, I pepper her about the time we’ve spent apart, to learn more about her. We discuss what we currently see and want for our future. When she steps away to shower, I take time to plan our next date.

  Six

  Galina

  For the first time in years, I receive a call from my mom. It startles me so much and causes my lungs to seize in panic so that all I can do is stare at the screen until it goes to voicemail.

  The last time we spoke is so clear in my mind. She asked me if I had any intentions of ever having a life with Sergey. When I answered no, she lost her mind. She went on and on about what it took to apparently convince his parents to agree to the union, how much money went into the wedding, and that I was ruining lives. She told me she was officially done with me and I was no longer her daughter.

  A few months after that is when the calls from Sergey’s mom started.

  “Galina?”

  I snap out of the memory and look over at Sergey. He’s taking me out for our next date.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My mom just called. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you want to talk to her?” he asks.

  Do I? She’s my mother and I love her dearly, despite our issues. But those issues have caused an enormous strain on our relationship. Obviously, since we no longer talk. I wonder if she’s only calling now because Sergey’s mom told her I’m here with him. Does she plan to start pressuring me again?

  Sensing my hesitation and uncertainty, Sergey reaches over to hold my hand. Comfort seems to emit from his body straight into mine. “Remember, I’m your ally. You don’t want to talk to her, don’t. You want me to talk to her, I will. You are not in this alone anymore.”

  That’s such an unfamiliar feeling. No one has ever had my back before and it definitely makes me swoon every time Sergey talks about how he has mine.

  “Let’s not think about it for now.” With that decision, I toss my phone into one of the cupholders of his car and decide that I don’t need it for the time being. “What are we doing anyway?” My question comes too late almost because he pulls into a parking lot.

  “I remembered that you love ballet and there’s a performance here tonight.”

  For the second time today, I’m stunned. Not only that he remembered, but that he’s choosing to take me here for a date. This doesn’t seem like his kind of outing at all.

  Sergey laughs as he sees my expression. “You don’t think I can endure a ballet performance for you?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to,” I confirm.

  “I don’t, but what’s a couple hours of boredom if it makes you happy?”

  He seems utterly unfazed by it all. As crazy as it sounds, no one has ever endured anything, big or small, for me and my own enjoyment. It gives me the warm and fuzzies that Sergey is doing this.

  “Ready?” Sergey asks, hesitating due to my silence.

  “Yes.”

  About thirty minutes into the performance, a low snoring sound emits from Sergey. I smile at seeing his head tilted forward a little, his eyes closed, and his breathing steady. I guess he wasn’t lying about being bored. I contemplate waking him, but he’s not disturbing anyone. Should he be awake and alert for our date? It’s more humorous than anything to me.

  I decide to let him be. Three-fourths of the way through the show, Sergey suddenly startles himself awake. He glances over at me, likely to see if I noticed, but I keep my focus on the stage. While he may not have enjoyed himself, I have.

  At the end, as we are walking back to his vehicle, I can’t help but tease him. “What did you think of the show?”

  A flicker of panic crosses his face. “It was good.”

  “Did you like the solo performance done after the first intermission?”

  His eyes widen a little more and it takes some restraint not to laugh. The performance I’m asking about doesn’t exist, so his answer will be interesting.

  “Yes, very good.”

  I can’t help but laugh and he gives me a curious glance as he opens the door for me.

  “I wish I had seen it then.” When his brows furrow in confusion, I add, “There wasn’t a solo; I’m just teasing since you were sleeping.”

  For a brief moment, he has a deer in the headlights look. “I was not. I was checking my eyelids for holes.”

  His answer catches me off guard and I can’t help but release a full belly laugh.

  “Didn’t find any,” he adds, nudging me into the car.

  “Heading home now?” I ask, still laughing a little as he pulls out of the parking lot.

  “Dinner first.”

  While he drives us to the restaurant, I check my phone to see an additional call from my mother and one from Sergey’s. I don’t really know what to do with this. My phone is plucked out of my hands and dropped back into the cupholder. I expect Sergey to say something, but he remains silent, and I decide I don’t really want to say anything either.

  Once we’re settled in at the very nice restaurant, he makes conversation with me.

  “Do you always teach in the summer?”

  “No. Only if there’s a need. My fall courses will be starting soon,” I explain.

  “Will you have to leave?” he asks.

  I smile. “No; I got lucky and everything is remote for me.”

  He learns more about my work, what I teach, and the like. Conversation seems to flow much easier than on our first date. Maybe this could work. Or maybe it never will with our parents looming over me and pushing their wants into me. It’s too much to deal with and I don’t have the strength to do it. Nor do I have the courage to cut them off completely.

  Which makes me think of us. Whatever that exactly entails.

  “What are you hoping to get out of this?” I ask him, motioning between the two of us later as he drives us home.

  “You staying is all. I hope you’ll see there’s something between us and you’ll stay for us to figure it out. I’m not exactly hoping to get…” He pauses and laughs. “I was going to say married, but that’s not quite right. We’re married, but we’re not a couple. If you stay, maybe we can continue seeing what happens. Maybe we’ll stay together; maybe we’ll get a divorce.” He shrugs. “But at least we’ll have tried and done so on our own terms.”

  That I can deal with and handle. If he was hoping for me to put my wedding ring on at the end of three dates, then I’d have to go ahead and let him down. Not happening. Just because I’m good with potentially sticking around and dating him, doesn’t mean I think we’re prepared to embrace married life.

  “If you decide you want to stay with me, that’s fine,” Sergey continues. “If you want your own space, I’ll help you find something.”

  Us living together brings something else to mind. Something where the topic may piss Sergey off, and I don’t want to ruin a good afternoon and evening by making him angry. At the same time, I can’t help myself.

  “There’s something I think we still need to discuss.”

  A worried glance comes my way.

  “The money you send.”

  Sergey interrupts me with a no-nonsense tone. “You’re still my wife, Galina. Please just let me do that; donate it, keep it, invest it, I don’t care.”

  “So far, I’ve just saved it. I was actually hoping to give it back to you.” I peek over at him to see his jaw clenched.

  “This has t0 be the least of our issues.” A hard exhale pushes through his nose. “If it’ll make you feel better, okay, but I’d rather you donate it if you don’t want to keep it.”

  It’s not much, but it’s a compromise. I’ll take it.

  Since he’s taken to holding my hand while he drives, I give his a squeeze of appreciation.

  When he parks, he says, “Our last date, you pick. I’ll go and do whatever you want me to do.”

  “Anything I want?” This is surprising to me. I’ve always thought of Sergey as being one who’d rather be in charge and make the decisions.

  “Anything,” he confirms.

  This could get very interesting; I’ll have to think long and hard about what will be the best and most fun date.

  Seven

  Sergey

  “How are things with your wife?” Scotty asks one night when I come over for dinner. They invited Galina to come, and I relayed that, but she decided to stay behind. I’m perfectly okay with that. She doesn’t have to go with me everywhere, especially at this stage in our relationship. She is still a wife who isn’t quite my wife.

  “We’re making progress. Things are good. I think she may stay.”

  “That’s great,” he says.

  “If she doesn’t, I can always play matchmaker,” Sylvia offers. “I’ve been successful in the past.”

  Scott cuts a look at her, but I just chuckle. She means well. I think she’s slightly upset that Galina stayed behind. She’s unable to chat with her, learn more about her, and be nosy. I’m sure Galina isn’t missing out.

  While things have been going well with us, I feel like Galina still has some reservations. That’s fine. There’s a long history, even if some of it is devoid of any interactions; I can’t expect too much. That would be unfair. She’s had to deal with way more regarding our so-called relationship than I have.

  “She’s not still upset over the pool incident, is she?” Sylvia asks. She’s been trying to figure out why Galina decided to stay home.

  “No. Next time, she’ll come,” I promise.

  “Not everyone is a social butterfly,” Scott tells her with a teasing tone.

  Still, she frowns. Scott changes the subject to the upcoming season. It will be interesting to see what it will be like, coming and going from home with Galina nearby. I’m not sure if she’ll want to live together or if she’ll want to get her own space. Our biggest obstacle, still, I believe is our parents.

  Galina seems to like me well enough that we likely could have a good thing going if they would simply butt out. Her demeanor has already changed since she’s been here. Not a lot, but some. She has stopped talking to either of our parents, though, and I think that’s helped with her stress levels.

  It actually pisses me off. I also feel like an idiot for not knowing any of this was happening. We could have resolved our issues much sooner if I’d know Galina was being harassed by our parents. Part of me blames her for not reaching out, but I also blame myself for not asking.

  The season is fast approaching and I’m really hoping this is somewhat settled by then. It’ll be really interesting to see what it’ll be like to have a companion around when playing. I haven’t ever really had that before. It’ll be nice. At least if this doesn’t work and we do divorce, I can finally move on and find someone. Or maybe I’ll sow my wild oats, though it’s a bit late in my life to be doing so.

  Galina paces about the apartment when I return.

  “I don’t think this will ever work,” she says the moment she sees me. “We’re always going to have our parents to deal with; they will always be hovering in the background and looming over us. I’ll always be under their thumb. If I succumb to this, what else will they pressure me to do?”

  I grab her hands from her hips and give them a little squeeze. If I had to guess, she got a call from one of our parents and decided to answer. “Galina,” I begin softly. “Remember, I’ll take care of that; you don’t have to.”

  “But will it be enough? They already know they can force me to marry.”

  My brows furrow at her comment; she’s said it before, but I don’t understand it. “Galina, we agreed back then and we’ve agreed to try now.”

  Her brows match mine and her voice rises in anger. “Agreed? Why do you keep saying that? I didn’t agree to anything! No one asked me what I wanted, Sergey. How exactly did I agree if I was told what I was going to do?”

  I frown. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s makes two of us,” she cuts in.

  “Your parents didn’t ask if you’d be willing to marry me and agree to the match?”

  “No!” she shrieks incredulously. Her eyes widen, turning wild and livid. “You were asked? You consented? Why? Why would you do that? I can’t believe they wanted your approval, but not mine.” She yanks her hands out of mine and paces again, throwing her hands around while she rants. “But of course they would want Mr. Perfect, Mr. Success to agree. Who gives a flying fuck what I want.” She whirls to face me. “I can’t believe you agreed.” The anger leaves her tone and she’s just defeated.

  “I thought you did,” I reply quietly with a shrug of my shoulders. “We were friends, Galina, and I liked you. I figured it couldn’t hurt to say yes and see what happens.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief as if she’s trying to shake off the news. “I need some space.” She runs out of the apartment.

  I think about calling after her, wishing to comfort her, but the disappointment in her gaze haunts me. Guilt bubbles up inside me as I collapse onto my couch. Should I even feel guilty? Sure, I’m part of why she’s in this mess, but I didn’t know we weren’t treated equally. I genuinely thought we both entered this, knowing it was what our parents wanted, but we were still okay with moving forward.

  Maybe I should give her the divorce. She is likely better off with a fresh start than the mess we’re currently in. I still like her, though. In all likelihood, if not for our parents, we would’ve never been together anyway, despite being friends. I would’ve left town and who knows what Galina would have done. We probably wouldn’t have kept in touch. We would have gone our separate ways and never looked back. Maybe that’s what we need to do now.