There's a second where Dmitry considers lying. If he tells Anya he'd been selfish, taken the money and gone, maybe she'll leave him right there and that will be the end of them and maybe it's better that way. If he lies, he won't have to look at her and know he'll never, ever be worthy and that she'll never love him back. Except that he can't lie to her, not anymore.

"Why would I?" he says. "After everything I did to you, how could I?" Vlad could enjoy the fruits of their con but Dmitry couldn't. He wasn't ready to stand by and smile for cameras and pretend like Anya didn't hate him. Or maybe not pretend. He trusts Anya not to lie so that when she says she doesn't hate him, Dmitry has to believe it. A vise that he hasn't realized is squeezing at his chest suddenly loosens and Dmitry can't hide a sigh of relief, maybe even joy.

"To be fair," he says, trying for a smile and not quite making it. Some smooth conman he is. "I was pretty sure Gleb was going to tattle on me even when I told him not to."