Nika always strived to be Lev’s perfect wife. Like a display, she cooked, cleaned, and maintained the place. She didn’t know that her relentless endeavor to please others was slowly eroding her identity.
While making breakfast one Sunday morning, Nika heard Lev come, his voice drowsy but expectant.
“Good morning,” Lev muttered sleepily as he entered the kitchen. Breakfast, what?
Nika grinned as she grabbed mushrooms and tomatoes from the fridge for an omelette. Also, fresh coffee.
Lev approached behind her and grabbed her shoulders.
You are the home mistress, right? He said something that put Nika on edge. The tone in his speech usually indicated a negative outcome.
What’s wrong? Nika turned, squinting.
Nothing in particular, Lev looked aside. Just that Mom and Kristina are coming over. For lunch.
