Until he wasn't trendy enough anymore.
"Want to talk about it?" Russell asked.
Dean laughed bitterly. "Not sure there's much to say. I destroyed my marriage, lost the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I'm sitting in your kitchen at midnight obsessing over my estranged wife's internet presence."
Russell raised an eyebrow. "That's... specific."
"She posted something. About moving forward." Dean opened his laptop again, staring at the strategy document he'd started. "And I just—I want people to see her. Really see her. She's incredible, Russell. She's everything good that I'm not."
"And you think social media amplification is going to fix your marriage?"
"No." Dean's voice cracked slightly. "Nothing's going to fix my marriage. She's divorcing me. I don't deserve her. I never did."
Russell sat down across from him, cradling his water glass. "So what's this really about?"
Dean stared at his hands. The words came out in a rush, like a confession he'd been holding back for months.
"She teaches fifth grade," Dean continued. "Do you know what that means? She shapes twenty-three kids every single year. Helps them learn, to think, to believe in themselves. And I acted like it was cute. Like she was playing house while I did the real work."
Russell was quiet for a long moment. "She sounds special."
"She is.” Dean's voice broke on the last word. “And I was too engrossed in my own damn self importance to see it. I took everything pure about her and made it a joke."
Russell leaned back in his chair. "And now?"
"Now I understand that she deserves to have whatever she want. She deserves a platform if she wants one. She deserves everything."
Dean looked up at Russell.
"She can divorce me," Dean said quietly. "Sheshoulddivorce me. But I'll always be her husband. In here." He pressed his hand to his chest. "That doesn't just go away because I fucked it up. I took vows. I promised to love her, to honor her, to put her first. And I broke every single one of those promises."
Russell reached across the table and squeezed Dean's shoulder.
"For what it's worth," Russell said quietly, "I think you're finally becoming the man she married."
Dean shook his head. "Too late.”
CHAPTER 57
Fiona
The phone buzzedon the counter as Fiona dried her hands on a dishtowel. Her heart gave a traitorous little jump when she saw Dean’s name on the screen.
She hesitated before answering—just long enough to remind herself that she didn’t owe him anything.
But curiosity was a powerful thing.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Dean said, his voice low and a little breathless, like he’d been working up the courage to call for twenty minutes. “Sorry if this is a bad time.”
“It’s fine,” she said, even though her pulse had already picked up.
“I was wondering…” He trailed off, then regrouped. “Would you meet me? Just for a few minutes. I want to show you something.”
She leaned against the counter, keeping her voice steady. “What kind of something?”
“A good something,” he said quickly. “Nothing heavy. Just—something I put together. Something I want you to have. No pressure.”
