To be fair, it wasn't as if anyone should expect a towel-clad, knife-wielding Svetlana. It wasn't normal, but nothing had been normal for two weeks, and this was Lawrence. Anything was possible. Still, as she was now clothed and arms crossed in front of her, the petite blond eyed her husband as he spoke. Okay. Russian. He was speaking Russian, something he hadn't done in his entire time there when it was the other version of him. Sign one that this was the man she had married and not his bastard twin. Also, tone wasn't distant and accusatory and he wasn't nearly as rigid.
"I see." She should be happy. She should hug him, something. The past two weeks had been hell. She needed the comfort. She needed... Svetlana didn't even know anymore. Two weeks of not sleeping or eating did that to a person. Made things that should make sense make no sense at all. Still, she needed to be sure that this was her Anatoly.
Or he could ask about the girls. Tensing, Svetlana's gaze hardened even more, flickering to the hall to their room. She still wasn't sure if this was real. If they were really back. She was worried that they'd die again... that they'd be taken from her.
"They were shot on Sunday. Died on Wednesday. Then they came back to life. I do not understand. But you, or whoever that was, made it perfectly clear where the fault lay."
Turning her gaze back to Anatoly, Svetlana showed nothing, eyeing him up and down briefly. It really did seem as though this was her Anatoly, but for all she knew, that asshole could be playing her. Trying to make her get her hopes up in order to crush her all the more. As if he hadn't done that enough. Spelling out what happened where anyone could hear. Saying she should have done something more. Saying that her Anatoly was only trying to win her back because Florence wasn't available. And while she knew it wasn't the Anatoly she had married, the words cut her deeply. Because she did worry about that. Because it seemed that no matter what version of her husband she was dealing with, he knew just what to say to tear her down... He might not read her anymore but he could still break her with a single word.
So she needed to figure out a question to ask him. For him to prove that this was the man she was trying to work things out with. Obviously it would have to involve something of what had happened here in Lawrence as any version of Anatoly would know their history....
"When we started playing chess while I was sick, what move did I open with and what was your counter?"