Page 44 of The Humiliated Wife

He stood there, composed and waiting, like he believed his words would be enough.

And suddenly Fiona felt... nothing.

Not anger. Not love. Not even sadness.

Just a vast, empty space where her feelings for him used to live.

CHAPTER 20

Dean

Dean watched Fiona's face.

He'd expected tears. Anger. Something. Some crack in her armor that he could work with, apologize into, promise his way through.

"Thank you," she said finally. "For saying that."

Dean’s heart stumbled. Thank you. She said thank you. That had to mean something—didn’t it? A thank you was a door left ajar, wasn’t it?

Hope flared in his chest. "Fiona?—"

"But it doesn't change anything."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I don't love you anymore, Dean."

The words didn’t land at first. His brain rejected them like a bad signal, fuzzed them out into something less permanent. She was angry. She was bluffing. He’d apologized, he’d meant it, so this had to be a test—right?

"You don't mean that," he said, voice cracking. "You can't mean that. We can work through this. I'll do anything?—"

"I know you would." Her voice was gentle but firm. "You're not a monster. You're not evil. You're just... not the person I thought you were."

Dean's chest hurt. "I can be better. I am better. I'll prove it to you?—"

"I don't want you to prove anything to me." Fiona stepped back slightly. "It’s too late.”

His fingers dug into the porch railing hard enough to sting. She was just hurt. That was all.

"But I love you," he whispered.

"I know," she said sadly. "But that isn't enough for me.”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it.

"I spent two years married to a man who didn’t protect me,” Fiona continued. "Two years feeling like something was wrong with me because your friends always seemed to be laughing at some inside joke. Two years being made to feel stupid and naive and small."

"You're not?—"

"I know I'm not," she said, and there was steel in her voice now. “But I don’t thinkyoudo.”

"That's not true?—"

"Isn't it?" She met his gaze directly. "Be honest, Dean. Really honest. Didn't some part of you think I was stupid? Didn't some part of you enjoy feeling superior?"

Dean's mouth opened, but no words came out. Because deep down, in the ugliest corner of his heart, he had enjoyed it sometimes. The way she looked at him like he was smarter, more sophisticated. The way her innocence made him feel worldly by comparison.

The silence stretched between them.