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While she wasn’t a pampered princess, she did like her comforts and Moscow was hardly perfect. They were traveling under the radar, which meant being very humble, not attracting the eye of the Russian mafia. A small apartment, decent food, warm clothing, were all the luxuries they could afford, or they might catch the eye of some unsavory creatures who might realize Jethro wasn’t just a modest American businessman.
It might have worked for just Jethro. He was much more adaptable, but she was slowly going crazy. It didn’t help that he was distracted, sometimes distant. She’d dated him long enough before marriage to know what he was like, how he could be a jerk. And Ducky had warned her off.
But Stephanie hadn’t expected this gulf between her and Jethro. They were supposed to be relative newlyweds, completely into each other, consumed with lovemaking. Instead, Jethro worked long days and researched at night. There never seemed to be any time for her and Stephanie was bored, both with her new marriage and her surroundings.
She looked across the room to where Jethro sat on the threadbare couch, a sheaf of papers on his lap. He’d only stopped working to eat a quick dinner, shoveling food in and answering her questions with one-word answers.
But that was Jethro’s way. Never a word wasted.
Stephanie looked at the window, studying the play of colors in the evening sky. “Jethro, can you come here a moment?”
Her new husband sighed heavily, and by the time he approached her, Stephanie had thrown her own walls up.
“What?”
“I just wanted you to see the colors of the sunset. It’s very pretty.” And I miss you, Jethro.
“Oh.” He sounded vaguely confused and Stephanie stifled her own sigh. The chill inside her had nothing to do with the cold winter evening and everything to do with her own personal sunset—the sunset of her marriage.