Page 50 of The Humiliated Wife

Dean closed his eyes and remembered what it felt like to be her safe place. The way she'd melt against him, trust written in every breath. How being with her—holding her, loving her—was the only time he'd ever felt like enough.

He'd had everything. And he'd thrown it away.

There, next to the ceramic bowl where they used to drop their keys, was the ring.

Her wedding ring.

He picked it up.

It was small, delicate. Just a plain gold band.

Dean slid it onto his pinky finger. It caught just above the knuckle. Too small for him, absurd-looking.

He sat down on the floor. Back against the wall. Ring pressing tight against his skin.

The silence folded in around him.

She’d worn this every day. Through holidays and grocery runs and long nights grading papers.

It was supposed to mean forever.

Dean stared at the ring on his hand until his vision blurred.

This was what failure looked like. Not a dramatic ending—but a quiet, stupid little ring that no longer fit anywhere it belonged.

Dean saton the floor of his empty apartment, Fiona's wedding ring tight on his pinky finger, and watched the light fade.

He tried to imagine what it would have felt like to Fiona. To realize that every private thought, every silly confession, every moment of pure honesty had been catalogued and served up for entertainment. To know that twenty-three thousand strangers had been laughing at you while you trusted completely.

Not just the public humiliation, but the private betrayal. Learning that the person you loved most, the person you felt safest with, had been collecting your vulnerabilities like specimens in a jar.

Dean thought about that night at the awards dinner. Fiona glowing with pride for his success. The way her face had changed. The confusion, then horror, then that terrible, empty calm.

She'd stood there in that banquet hall, realizing the man she'd married had been laughing at her—not with her,at her—for two solid years.

And not just Dean. No. Everyone Dean had paraded her in front of.

Every dinner party, every work event, every time she'd tried to fit in with his friends—they'd all been watching her like she was a character in a show they'd been following for years.

The remorse was suffocating. Dean doubled over, the weight of it crushing his chest.

He'd made her feel stupid. Small. Worthless. He'd taken everything beautiful about her and turned it into proof that she didn't belong in his world.

She'd loved him completely. And he'd documented that love like a nature photographer capturing the mating habits of some exotic, naive species.

Dean pressed his face into his hands, Fiona's ring cutting into his skin.

No wonder she'd looked at him like a stranger that last night.

She hadn't just lost her husband. She'd lost her reality. Her sense of safety. Her ability to trust her own judgment.

He'd taken the kindest, most genuine person he'd ever known and destroyed her.

The bar was too loud.

It was the kind of place you went to in order to prove you were better, were cooler, had a higher level of taste than most people. The kind of place Dean used to feel at home.

He sat at the corner of the booth nursing a drink. Across from him, Ava was curled into a throw. Roxanne nursed a martini, jacket collar turned up against the breeze. Jared and Cam flanked them, both drinking IPAs and talking loudly.