Succeed In Russia

Demyan 

I decided to distract myself from my guilt for a few seconds as I steered the conversation in a different direction. "Why haven't you been eating Malia?" I frowned. "You're pregnant, you should know better."

She immediately avoided my gaze as she looked on with a guilty expression, "I know but I didn't-"

"Malia," I urged, "Tell me what's been going on. Have people been pointing it out at work?"

She shook her head in disagreement, "They can't tell I'm pregnant but there's been rumours about why you left."

"What kind of rumours?"

"The bitching kind," she sighed as she rested her head against my chest and momentarily closed her eyes, "They think you left cause I'm a horrible dancer plus you moved back to London so they think we broke up. You won't believe how they turn on you when they think you're no longer with the golden boy. 

My dance partner is a brute. He handles me like I'm an object."