“Look—” Kris grabbed his drink and twisted. God help this man, interrupting his soul searching, his goodbye to David, on this night. He glared, his eyes sharpened to daggers. “I’m not—” David gazed back serenely. David blinked. Once. Twice. The Martini glass hit the floor. Shattered, splintering into a billion fractional pieces, as many pieces as Kris’s heart had broken into, his soul.
