Canada. We will get the clearance.” Milan was insistent. “I don’t want to go to Canada,” Jelena answered. Milan was dumbfounded. “But we talked about this. We agreed.” Had
they? He could not remember. “What will I do in Canada?” she asked simply. “What will you do here?” he shot back. “Everything is fucking destroyed.” Before she could answer, he cut in again, and heard the bitter edge
creep into his voice. “I told them you were my wife. I promised you we would go to Canada. That’s what you wanted.” He thought of Vesna, with whom he had spent nearly three months and whom he had wordlessly abandoned by the simple act of not returning to her apartment on March the 23rd Street.