I exhaled through my nose, long and dramatic.

"I wasn't really going to kill myself. I was just... talking." I paused, finger tapping my chin like I was trying to remember a grocery list. "Okay, I can't remember the exact phrasing, but I meant the BABY. Weren't YOU the one who offered to PUNCH me in the stomach like few days ago?"

Olga dropped onto the bed beside me. Shrugged. No apology in her posture, no softening. Just stubborn, crossed arms and that mulish look she gets when she's right and knows it.

I kept going, softer now. "I know. I understand. But you don't get it. You don't get...