“Surprise!” the relatives said when they showed up at my anniversary celebration uninvited. “Likewise,” I said. “The one who arranges the surprises is the one who pays for them.”
Yulia adjusted the strap of her emerald dress in front of the mirror, gave her reflection a critical once-over, and was satisfied. Forty. A terrifying number for some, but for Yulia it meant freedom, money, and, finally, the ability to say a firm “no.” “Yul, the taxi’s waiting,” said Boris, her husband, peeking out from […]
Continue...