Summary:

“I thought you were okay with this. With us. I know…” Shane trails off
“Of course I’m not okay with this - he’s fucking hurting you Shane.” Yuna takes the opportunity to finally say it outright. She doesn’t hide the vitriol in her tone.
“Wha-” Shane’s eyes get wide. Something like comprehension crosses his face. His eyes dart down to the bruise on his wrist. “Oh.” If possible, his face gets redder still. Yuna frowns. “No, mom, he’s not- uh- hurting me. Like that.”
What? “Did somebody else give you that bruise then?” Yuna feels a bit hysterical. Has Rozanov Stockholm Syndromed her son?
“No,” Shane grits out, “it was, uh, Ilya. It was just. You know. Like. Um.”
And suddenly Yuna understands. She understands all too well. She understands more than she had ever wanted to about her son.
"Oh."