Ivan let his arms slide away with Volgin's; they suddenly felt very empty.

"Of course, Zhenya," he ran a palm over one of those strong arms. "But so do I...I can't let you do all the work," Ivan's brow knitted, a serious frown on his lips.

He didn't want to see that sort of look on Volgin's face. Not over some Yankee dog--not over him over things he can't change...as much as those things hurt him to the core.