A fireside chat

Nadia walks around the corner of the couch and takes a seat beside you. She is still wearing her nightgown, but her hair is combed, and her flush has dissipated. Her cerulean eyes meet yours, and she forces out a short sigh before rushing out in a gruff voice: "I want a divorce."

Your heart thunders, and your visions narrows, but for an entirely different reason now.

"A... divorce? Surely, Nadia, you don't mean it. We've been together for two decades... I know I walked in on you, but I didn't mean to. I thought you were in danger. I -"

"No, Lev, I mean it. I can't do this anymore. Karina is going to school soon. We don't need to fake this anymore. I know you don't love me, and you haven't for a long time. And I don't love you either."

Your stomach lurches at the harsh words. A thin tear falls down her cheek, her normal frigid expression gone.

"Nadia! What do you mean, I don't love you? I love you with my life - that's why I married you! Why would you say that?"

"You love me? Yeah, right. You work a hundred hours a week. I go days without talking to you or seeing you. And it's been like that for years, Lev. Years! How can someone that cares about me so little, possibly love me?" The words pour out of her in an angry torrent, slamming against you like a tidal wave.

You reach a hand out to her, grasping to take hers in your own, but she recoils away from you.

"Nadia," you whisper, "I am sorry. I do love you. I know I have worked too much, for too long. I am changing. I already started changing. I am working less, I promise. I love you. Please don't do this. I can't lose you."

She sits silently, staring at you.

"What can I do, Nadia? I don't want a divorce. I want to fix us. I want you to love me. Tell me what to do."

"I don't know, Lev. I don't know."

You stare at your beautiful wife - her straight, auburn hair. Her sharp, Russian features. Her supple, tender lips. Her piercing, blue eyes. You cannot lose her.

"If I change, will you forgive me? If I show you I can do better, will you give us another shot?"

She sighs.

"Tell me now, how will you change?"

"I already asked Uncle Ivan for more work. I am joining the organization. I will work more with him, and less at other jobs. I'll pay down our debts, and I'll spend more time with you. And Karina. I promise I will come home at a reasonable hour for now on, as often as I can. What if I take a day off? Sundays - only for you, Karina, and me. What do you think?"

"Every Sunday?"

"Every Sunday."

Another sigh. A pause. Her hand reaches out to grab yours - the first sign of affection you can recall.

"Every Sunday at home, with us, starting tomorrow. No more odd jobs and other random things. I am not eager for our family to be more intertwined in the organization, but I understand we don't have much choice."

"I will do it, Nadia, I promise."

"You have ten years to make up for, Lev. You do not even know me anymore, nor do I know you. This will be hard, for both of us."

"I know, dear, I know. But I will do everything I need to. I cannot lose you."

Finally, she breaks eye contact with you.

"Well, husband, how about some TV? That's what the couples do now, isn't it?"

"I'd love that."