He straightened in his chair, his jaw growing implacable. “That’s my business.”
“Your ‘business’!” Her voice trembled with rage. She waved the envelope, ignoring the whispers and turning heads of the other diners. “You have the gall to say that after giving me these disgusting photos?”
She saw the glass on the table and looked at Morgan sitting there in front of her. She shouldn’t. It would be absolutely tacky. Completely inexcusable. But his coldness, his inflexibility—the complete sick situation—goaded her beyond rational thought. Grabbing the water, she tossed the contents, ice cubes and all, in his face.
She dropped the glass. It thudded against the table and rolled off, bouncing onto the carpet as she stared at him in horror. Water trickled down his reddening face, dripped from his chin to seep into his white shirt.
Morgan held her gaze as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
Kristen backed away from the table. Dislike, anger, she could have handled and anything else…but not the sudden and unexpected empathy shining from his eyes. A wave of anguish crashed into her, its force causing her to stumble, and she squeezed the envelope, crumbling the evidence of Jeff’s infidelity against her chest. Her chair nearly fell in her rush to get out of the restaurant.