She wants to throw up. Or cry.
She can't believe Hans, her fucking fiance, would think she'd just be okay when he said, "I've been sleeping with a woman who isn't you."
Obviously it wasn't her; they hadn't slept together yet.
And the worst part: "I got her pregnant."
She runs out of her apartment, bolting into the busy street. A car honks and skids to a stop. She flips him off.
A guy on his bicycle stops when she hits the curb.
"You alright?"
"No. Buzz off."
"How about you let me buy you a coffee."
She looks up.