“I’m sorry if the thought of my pregnant fiancée sitting alone on Christmas Eve bothered me.”
“Ex ... and I was exactly where I wanted to be.”
The sound of feet scuffling against the ground makes me tense. Is he putting his hands on her? I tense. I’ve seen the effects of domestic violence on friends. When we turn a blind eye, we’re all to blame. I push my cart forward, positioning myself in an aisle where I can see them from a distance. The blond brute towers over the smaller woman with inky black hair spilling out from underneath her pale pink cap. The white and pink pom-pom on the top makes me smile.
“Stop this.” The man grabs her wrist and spins her to face them.
She places her hands on his chest and steps back. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you stop this foolishness. The storm is kicking up, and you need to be at home.”
“With you, right?”
“Clearly, you can’t take care of yourself. I mean, look at where we are now. How are you going to raise a baby alone if you can’t even handle—”
Her hand moves so fast I can barely track it. Smack. Her bare palm meets his cheek. His head snaps back, and he blinks. His eyes darken, and he tightens his grip. She winces, and I make my move.
“Is there a problem here?” I force my way in between the two of them, and she twists her wrist and stiffens her hand, causing his hold to break.
“Excuse me?” the man asks.
“The lady made it clear she didn’t want to leave with you, and you’ve pushed the issue.”
“Listen, mate,” he mocks my accent, “you should mind your business. We’re fine.”
I glance at the woman watching me with her large, doe-shaped, hazel-colored eyes. “Is that true, miss?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Are you serious?” he hisses, stepping forward.
I hold my hand up, forcing him back.
“I want you to leave. You’ve done enough,” the woman whispers, looking down at the ground.
“This isn’t over.”
“It is tonight,” I say.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the store.” A manager appears to the right of the bickering couple.
“Do you know who I am?” Preston asks, standing taller.
“A man harassing a pregnant woman in the middle of the store on Christmas Eve,” the manager says in an unimpressed tone.
The tow-haired man’s face reddens. “Fine.” Stepping back, he spins on his heel and stalks away.
The woman covers her face and exhales. “I am so sorry.”
“You should never apologize for his bad behavior,” I say.
“Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am?” the manager asks, stepping forward.
“Yes.” She places her hand over the small swell of her belly. “I just came here for tape.”
“We can get you that,” the manager assures her.
Smiling, she shakes her head. “Thank you both. His bark is worse than his bite, I swear.”