After dinner Alexander didn’t ask anyone to help her. He helped her himself, and when they were outside, bent over the dishpan, he turned her chin to him and said, “Tatia, don’t turn your face away from me again. Because now you’re mine, and every time I look at you, I need to see you’re mine in your eyes.” Tatiana gazed at him, adoring him. “There I am,” he whispered, kissing her, their hands entwined in the warm, soapy water.
"Ask: what do you believe in? What do you hope for? But most important—ask: what do you love?” She looked up at Alexander. “What did you call it, Shura?” she said quietly. “Our first night, you said you and I had something, you called us . . .” “The life force,” he replied. I know who I am, she thought, taking his hand and turning to the altar. I am Tatiana. And I believe in, and hope for, and love Alexander for life.
