For three excruciating seconds, no one moved. Emma's lipstick was smudged. Alek's usually perfect hair stuck up where her fingers had been. And Jack's face had turned a shade of red previously unknown to science.

"Jack—" Emma started.

"Don't." Jack held up his hand, eyes darting between them. "Just... don't."

Alek moved slightly in front of Emma, his body language protective but not aggressive. "Reynolds, this isn't what you—"

"Isn't what I think?" Jack laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. "Because it looks like my boss is sticking his tongue down my wife's throat."

"Soon-to-be-ex-wife," Emma corrected, finding her voice. "You made that choice, remember?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "So what, this...