"I'm sure you understand that given the circumstances we can't be married."
Connor's words hit Grace with the force of an invisible fist. The restaurant sounds grew louder with multiple conversations, a burst of laughter and the clink of silverware on fine china. All normal sounds in a normal world.
Connor lifted his crystal goblet as if to propose a toast to the termination of their engagement.
Beneath the artificial lights, the diamond on Grace's finger winked lewdly. She yanked it off and dropped it into Connor's glass of merlot, where it landed with a satisfactory clink.
"You hypocritical bastard."
He slammed the goblet on the table, sending forth a shower of wine. With an oath, he mopped at the spots of red on his otherwise pristine, and very expensive, designer shirt.
"Damn it, Grace, look what you've done."
"I haven't done anything." Her voice rose. "What happened to innocent until proven guilty? Who made you judge and juror?" More angry words sat on the tip of her tongue, but she squelched them. She slammed her hands on the table and leaned into his face. "You're off the hook, Counselor." Grace's voice turned the heads of the couple seated at the table next to them.
Connor gazed over the glasses resting on his nose. His eyes, which once heated her blood, now froze her with a blast of contempt.
"For God's sake, keep your voice down."
Grace pushed her chair back and walked away, defying the bulls-eye she felt between her shoulder blades. The press loved Connor Thomas, prosecuting attorney and aspiring senator. At any moment she expected an eager reporter to jump out and blind her with flashbulbs. She maneuvered her way through the throng of waiting customers, pushed open the doors of the restaurant and burst into the warm Tennessee night.
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