Watching the two of them grapple, neither willing to let go, I couldn't help imagining a melodramatic heroine wailing, 'Please, stop fighting!'
A laugh escaped me. Both men looked over in the middle of their brawl, and I quickly pressed my lips together and tried to look distraught.
The next moment, they both came toward me and seized an arm each.
"Let go. Celia is going to be my wife. We're already engaged."
"So what? We're having a baby!"
"You have no shame, Dylan!"
"I have no shame? Weren't you the one who handed her to me? Which of us should be ashamed? You're the one at fault, and now you're trying to pin it on me?"
Dylan's questions came like machine-gun fire, each one hitting where it hurt. Grant's lower lip trembled with anger.
Just when I thought he was about to fire back
