And when the woman behind the counter hands him his receipt and tells him to step to the side to wait, he just nods and shifts over to wait for our food.
“It’s Raoul’s favorite spot in the city. He makes us eat here every time we’re in the neighborhood. They have great empanadas.”
Mikhail doesn’t want another man to touch me for the rest of my life.
I gather up the random scraps of information and tuck them away like a squirrel hoarding acorns for winter. I don’t know when Mikhail is going to shut down again and pull away, so I have to get as much out of him as I can while I’m able.
A man calls our number and Mikhail grabs a plastic tray with our plates on it. He places a hand low on my back and directs me to a table. I sit down on a pea-green vinyl chair and pray the mess between my l
