The clock read two in the morning. The office was silent, except for the constant typing and the hum of the air conditioning. Our table was covered with folders, Post-its, and cold coffees. I was trying to concentrate on the damn report, but every time I looked at Nikolai, my brain repeated the word like a mantra.
Divorce. Divorce. Divorce.
As I turned the page, I saw him writing with that impenetrable seriousness, and my mind kept shouting: Divorce. Woman. Problem. I tried to play it cool, but the sigh I let out was so loud that even the windows shook.
"What the heck was that?" Nikolai asked, without lifting his eyes from the papers.
"What? Me? Nothing. Just... Nothing." I smiled at him innocently, though I probably looked like the prime suspect in a soap opera trial.
He looked up, r
