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[Honesty should not have been such a grave affliction for a noble man like Patroclus. Honesty should not have resulted in him upsetting his wife and sons but it had done so. Late on Monday evening, following another long day at work, he had a frank conversation with his wife. Too frank. She asked if he was happy. Under normal circumstances, he'd have said that he was tired but content. On Monday, though, he said that he was not happy.
The truths kept flowing. He missed Moscow. He missed his family. He feared he was making a huge mistake. His wife got upset and then she got angry. She booked flights to her family home in Arizona.
On Tuesday morning, he kissed his wife and sons goodbye and carried their luggage to a waiting cab. Sasha cried and Mishka slept through his father's clumsy farewell.
Patroclus was just grateful that she had booked return tickets. For all its size, New York had become particularly lonely.]
The truths kept flowing. He missed Moscow. He missed his family. He feared he was making a huge mistake. His wife got upset and then she got angry. She booked flights to her family home in Arizona.
On Tuesday morning, he kissed his wife and sons goodbye and carried their luggage to a waiting cab. Sasha cried and Mishka slept through his father's clumsy farewell.
Patroclus was just grateful that she had booked return tickets. For all its size, New York had become particularly lonely.]