AN: Seems I really worried some of y'all.

/

The following day, Dean was called upon to cover the morning forecast. Amanda didn't end up seeing him until well after dark, once Jamie and Phillip were already fast asleep. That was fine with her. She didn't want the rest of her family hearing all the sordid details first-hand.

The delay only added to the strain building in her shoulders. Dean had sounded so excited over the phone and she knew that dragging out the suspense would hurt more in the long run. Despite her frequent affirmations that she was not ready, he'd already alluded to marriage on more than one occasion. That sort of talk had to stop. The sooner the better.

A little after eight, she received him at the door and directed him into the den. Dean did not often emote, but she noticed a bounce in his step that was not there before. Words began to bubble out of his mouth before they were halfway to the couch.

"So I was thinking a spring wedding. Something in June would make my family very happy, not to mention the boys will be out of school."

Amanda winced to herself, already regretting the ambiguity of her last message. She should've known he'd get the wrong idea. She needed to cut him off quickly, or at least come clean. It wasn't healthy for either of them to keep clinging to each other like safety vests.

"Dean, sit down please," she said.

"Are you sure you don't want me on one knee?"

"Dean."

Obediently, Dean plopped himself onto the middle cushion, beaming all the while. Amanda couldn't bear to look at him for long. She wandered to the mantle, fiddling with the sensible bookends he'd gifted her last month. 'Funny how she had the courage to face down armed men, but when it came to hurting someone's feelings, she was a downright coward.

"I'm not going to marry you."

"Oh, Amanda, let me apologize. I didn't mean to assume- You need more time, of course. How 'bout we revisit this next week?"

"I had an affair, Dean!" Amanda reeled around then looked down, studying the carpet. "Or, not really an affair, but… I met a man."

The ensuing silence was almost worse than shouting. That at least would've proved that he cared. Seconds passed before she lifted her chin, steadily meeting Dean's gaze. His face wasn't crushed, as she'd expected, but more confused. Blank, like a critical error had occurred somewhere in his cortex.

"I don't understand," he said.

She sighed. "I slept with someone else, alright?"

A second, shorter silence reigned.

"...Do you love this man?" Dean asked.

"No! No, I don't. But the fact that it happened…" She ran her hands up her shoulders as if to cradle herself. "Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?"

"Amanda, you made a mistake-"

"That's the thing, though." Something clicked in her mind and her voice settled into a whisper. "I'm not so sure it was a mistake."

She was going insane with every sag in the conversation, to the point that Dean clearing his throat was a godsend.

Frigid-faced, he said, "I see."

Minutes dragged into an hour. Dean was far away, off in his own fantasy world, scarcely listening as Amanda attempted to nail home the point. Her frustration began to boil over, though she took care not to let it leak into her words. For months she'd been dropping hints, and even after admitting to the highest order of dishonesty, Dean was still in denial.

"-I don't think I ever really loved you, and I don't think you love me either. I think we loved the idea of each other," Amanda said. Her throat was hoarse from use.

Those were the magic words that brought him around.

"You might be right," Dean conceded, quietly. He bowed his head. For a moment he almost looked mournful. "We aren't going to work this out, are we?"

Ten minutes and a lot of consoling later, Amanda watched as Dean's car rolled off her driveway. Her eyes tracked the vehicle's tail lights until they were pinpricks. It rumbled down the street and into the night, never to be seen in the neighbourhood again.

A myriad of emotions moiled inside Amanda as she returned to the den. She was relieved, remorseful, and overwrought, all at once. Eyes blurry, she nearly bowled over a body by the fireplace. Her mother was waiting for her, arms crossed, hair in rollers. All her life Amanda prided herself on being able to read her mother, but now she was at a loss. After a few tense beats, Dotty's eyes flashed to her ring finger.

"I see that you're not wearing a ring." Surprisingly, her tone was neutral.

Amanda wrung her hands together. God, how long was her mother listening?

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet."

"You don't need to. It's OK," Dotty reassured her, and for a time, Amanda actually believed that it would be OK. "I'm sorry if I ever pressured you."

All of Amanda's strength fled in an instant. Feeling like a little girl, she bent at the waist and reached for her mother. Two tears escaped her lashes, one for poor Dean, and one for the man she never truly had. The single sob was for herself and the self-respect she'd irrevocably lost.

"There there…" Dotty said, drawing her into an embrace.

/

AN: Goodbye Dean.