Dmitriy
After ending the call with Katerina, I tossed my phone on the counter, so I could carry a tray to the bedroom. On the tray was a bowl of warm chicken noodle soup, a bottle of ibuprofen, and two bottles of water. Svetlana’s pasty complexion was a dead giveaway to just how dehydrated she was.
As soon as I walked into the bedroom, Svetlana opened her eyes, then they widened in surprise. As I crossed the room, she sat up with her back propped against the wall, so I could set the tray over her lap.
My recent conversation with Katerina left me feeling like a complete asshole, so I left Svetlana to eat alone and made my way to the bathroom. I had worked up quite the sweat pounding on the punching bag, and I was in dire need of a shower. Not to mention, a few minutes to
