"Okay, Shawn, you wanted to talk, so let's talk," Angela said sharply as she made herself comfortable in the apartment. She had immediately reacted to Rob's comments with hurt and confusion, but the tiresome walk home had given her some time to collect her thoughts. Unfortunately, the tension-filled walk had also taken enough time to allow her anger to kick in.
Angela couldn't pinpoint exactly what was making her so angry. After all, she really did believe what Shawn had said about nothing happening with Brittany. Shawn wouldn't lie to her; she was sure of that much. Their relationship had dealt with the issue of honesty long before, and Angela had silently vowed to put her absolute trust in Shawn's word.
The very idea of this other girl hanging all over the man she loved, though -- it was just too much. Angela wondered if Shawn ever wished he was free to be with other girls. She wondered if Brittany, this person she knew nothing about, had genuine feelings for Shawn, or was it purely physical attraction? Angela couldn't bear to think about what might have happened while she was away in Paris, dreaming only of Shawn, but she knew the truth had to come out.
If she had given in to her true feelings at that awkward, silent moment in the apartment, Angela would have fallen into Shawn's arms in a fit of tears, begging him to tell her that the whole conversation with Rob had been a dream, and that he loved her. Instead, she converted all of her fears and doubts into a sense of bitterness toward Shawn. It hurts so much less when you're more angry than sad, she thought.
Shawn took a deep breath and sat stiffly on the couch next to Angela. He could feel the little velvet box in his pocket, resting softly against his leg. He didn't want to think about that box or the token of love that it contained. He had wanted so badly for this night to be perfect, but the biting echo of Angela's last comment in his mind told him that the real trouble had yet to begin.
"Angela," he began softly, "I can explain everything that happened while you were away, and as harmless as it all was, I have this feeling that something will still be bothering you."
She didn't respond. Angela looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap, trying to decide if lashing out at Shawn would be worth the consequences.
Shawn was getting frustrated by her silence. "You know I can't make this better if you don't talk to me. I mean, what am I supposed to say?" He didn't realize how angry his voice had sounded until Angela looked up, glaring at him in disbelief.
"Oh, don't start trying to put this all on me, Shawn. I'm not the one who was bar-hopping all over town with Bambi or Barbie or whatever her name was," Angela snapped, inching further and further away from Shawn as she spoke.
"Don't be so quick to make assumptions. I told you before, NOTHING happened between Brittany and I. Now I will gladly explain what did happen if you can just sit back and listen without jumping all over my case!" Shawn had lost all consciousness of the ring in his pocket by that point, and he was totally consumed by his anger.
"Fine. Go for it," she retorted. "I'd be happy to listen to you wiggle your way out of this one."
Shawn was tempted to scream at her or break something or just get up and walk out of the apartment, but his rational side told him that he owed her at least some sort of explanation, regardless of her erratic behavior.
Slowly, in the calmest voice his rage would allow, Shawn began to explain the events of the night that Rob had mentioned. He wasn't going to dress up the incident for Angela's benefit. He was going to tell her flat out what happened, and he was going to do it unapologetically, at that. There would be no reason for Angela to be upset once she understood the truth, he thought.
One late night when Shawn's buddies had stumbled home early, drunk beyond belief, Shawn had agreed to stay behind and help Brittany clean their shameless mess. A perky, "Baywatch"-esque beauty, Brittany had never tried to hide her attraction to Shawn, regardless of the fact that he was obviously committed to someone else.
His skin crawled as he recalled how she forcefully wrapped her arms around him that night -- her way of saying "thank you" for the help. Shawn couldn't deny that Brittany was beautiful, and had he not been in a relationship, he would have jumped at the chance to be with a girl like her, a possibility that the blonde barmaid greatly encouraged.
Brittany's unabashed flirtatiousness, however, was just enough of a turn-off to keep Shawn from losing track of reality. He thought of Angela constantly when he could not be with her, and he wasn't going to let an unexpected, careless situation ruin the relationship that he cherished.
Angela looked down throughout Shawn's whole explanation of the Brittany ordeal. A part of her knew that Shawn had done nothing wrong, that his actual behavior was purely innocent, but something deep inside of her was profoundly scarred by Shawn's descriptions of Brittany and the harsh, defensive tone of his voice.
He hadn't denied that he thought she was beautiful, and Angela was reminded of the golden-haired, fair-skinned beauties that Shawn had dated randomly before he met her. They were all gorgeous, flirtatious, and submissive. Angela had forgotten for the longest time that before her, that was Shawn's "type".
"I think the fact that I didn't hook up with Brittany, or anyone else for that matter, should tell you something about how much I value our relationship," Shawn added, still feeling a little bitter, but ultimately hoping that his explanation would remedy the tension between him and Angela. One glance at the worried, far-off expression on Angela's face, however, told Shawn that she was looking at his words beyond surface value.
He breathed heavily in frustration and leaned back against his end of the couch. It was completely useless if Angela was just going to analyze his words until there was nothing left, he thought.
Angela could only sit silently, wondering if Shawn ever thought of her as a burden. She wondered if, despite his declarations of love, he ever resented her for leaving him alone for a year, unable to be with her or any other girl. Her worries slowly deteriorated her ability to stay quiet, and in a split second, she spoke out.
"Are you ever sorry that you gave all of that up?" Her words were spoken clearly, sternly, with no interference from her emotions.
Shawn was caught off guard by Angela's seemingly-cold, direct inquiry. He was obviously puzzled.
"Do you wish that you had continued dating those air-brained, blonde, bubbly types? Did you ever wish you could do something more than just...look at Brittany?" she asked in that same serious tone.
"Angela, where is this coming from?" Shawn was clearly put off by her skepticism about his love. "How did you get that out of what I just said?"
"I don't know, Shawn, maybe it was the way you made it sound like I should be thankful for you not cheating on me, not to mention the emphasis you put on how beautiful Brittany is," Angela said hotly.
Shawn stood up and threw his arms in the air, no longer able to think rationally. "What? Do you want me to lie to you? Do you want me to pretend that you're the only attractive woman in this world? I didn't know you were so damned insecure!" he shouted.
His words ripped into Angela's heart with a scorching forcefulness. How could he not understand? He usually understood her better than anyone, even Topanga. Angela looked at the furious scowl on Shawn's face. She looked around the apartment, at the TV that they'd watched together night after night, the small table where they shared casual snacks and romantic candle-lit dinners, the bed where they woke up in each other's arms every morning. It all seemed so ugly to her now, as she looked through angry, saddened eyes.
Angela stood up and went to retrieve some of her possessions from the large oak chest-of-drawers. She hastily shoved a few items into a large blue mesh bag and flung it over her shoulder.
Shawn could only watch her, unable to speak, unable to think. He knew she was leaving him, maybe for good, and all his hopes for a long, happy life together crumbled, one by one. His true love was about to walk out of his life, and he could do nothing but stand still.
Angela stepped over to where Shawn was standing, leaning in so close to him that he wondered for a brief second if she might kiss him. The fiery look of rage in her eyes, however, made it clear that her intentions were very different.
"I guess you answered my question, Shawn," she whispered furiously, trying with all her might to keep from crying. "I never knew you could be so heartless."
Shawn was paralyzed, mentally and physically, as Angela marched out the door, slamming it behind her. She was gone. The apartment was silent, and Shawn was alone. He closed his eyes in hopes of suffocating the pain that shot through his heart the moment he was able to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened, but nothing would help. His dreams were crushed, his heart was broken, and she was gone.
Angela couldn't pinpoint exactly what was making her so angry. After all, she really did believe what Shawn had said about nothing happening with Brittany. Shawn wouldn't lie to her; she was sure of that much. Their relationship had dealt with the issue of honesty long before, and Angela had silently vowed to put her absolute trust in Shawn's word.
The very idea of this other girl hanging all over the man she loved, though -- it was just too much. Angela wondered if Shawn ever wished he was free to be with other girls. She wondered if Brittany, this person she knew nothing about, had genuine feelings for Shawn, or was it purely physical attraction? Angela couldn't bear to think about what might have happened while she was away in Paris, dreaming only of Shawn, but she knew the truth had to come out.
If she had given in to her true feelings at that awkward, silent moment in the apartment, Angela would have fallen into Shawn's arms in a fit of tears, begging him to tell her that the whole conversation with Rob had been a dream, and that he loved her. Instead, she converted all of her fears and doubts into a sense of bitterness toward Shawn. It hurts so much less when you're more angry than sad, she thought.
Shawn took a deep breath and sat stiffly on the couch next to Angela. He could feel the little velvet box in his pocket, resting softly against his leg. He didn't want to think about that box or the token of love that it contained. He had wanted so badly for this night to be perfect, but the biting echo of Angela's last comment in his mind told him that the real trouble had yet to begin.
"Angela," he began softly, "I can explain everything that happened while you were away, and as harmless as it all was, I have this feeling that something will still be bothering you."
She didn't respond. Angela looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap, trying to decide if lashing out at Shawn would be worth the consequences.
Shawn was getting frustrated by her silence. "You know I can't make this better if you don't talk to me. I mean, what am I supposed to say?" He didn't realize how angry his voice had sounded until Angela looked up, glaring at him in disbelief.
"Oh, don't start trying to put this all on me, Shawn. I'm not the one who was bar-hopping all over town with Bambi or Barbie or whatever her name was," Angela snapped, inching further and further away from Shawn as she spoke.
"Don't be so quick to make assumptions. I told you before, NOTHING happened between Brittany and I. Now I will gladly explain what did happen if you can just sit back and listen without jumping all over my case!" Shawn had lost all consciousness of the ring in his pocket by that point, and he was totally consumed by his anger.
"Fine. Go for it," she retorted. "I'd be happy to listen to you wiggle your way out of this one."
Shawn was tempted to scream at her or break something or just get up and walk out of the apartment, but his rational side told him that he owed her at least some sort of explanation, regardless of her erratic behavior.
Slowly, in the calmest voice his rage would allow, Shawn began to explain the events of the night that Rob had mentioned. He wasn't going to dress up the incident for Angela's benefit. He was going to tell her flat out what happened, and he was going to do it unapologetically, at that. There would be no reason for Angela to be upset once she understood the truth, he thought.
One late night when Shawn's buddies had stumbled home early, drunk beyond belief, Shawn had agreed to stay behind and help Brittany clean their shameless mess. A perky, "Baywatch"-esque beauty, Brittany had never tried to hide her attraction to Shawn, regardless of the fact that he was obviously committed to someone else.
His skin crawled as he recalled how she forcefully wrapped her arms around him that night -- her way of saying "thank you" for the help. Shawn couldn't deny that Brittany was beautiful, and had he not been in a relationship, he would have jumped at the chance to be with a girl like her, a possibility that the blonde barmaid greatly encouraged.
Brittany's unabashed flirtatiousness, however, was just enough of a turn-off to keep Shawn from losing track of reality. He thought of Angela constantly when he could not be with her, and he wasn't going to let an unexpected, careless situation ruin the relationship that he cherished.
Angela looked down throughout Shawn's whole explanation of the Brittany ordeal. A part of her knew that Shawn had done nothing wrong, that his actual behavior was purely innocent, but something deep inside of her was profoundly scarred by Shawn's descriptions of Brittany and the harsh, defensive tone of his voice.
He hadn't denied that he thought she was beautiful, and Angela was reminded of the golden-haired, fair-skinned beauties that Shawn had dated randomly before he met her. They were all gorgeous, flirtatious, and submissive. Angela had forgotten for the longest time that before her, that was Shawn's "type".
"I think the fact that I didn't hook up with Brittany, or anyone else for that matter, should tell you something about how much I value our relationship," Shawn added, still feeling a little bitter, but ultimately hoping that his explanation would remedy the tension between him and Angela. One glance at the worried, far-off expression on Angela's face, however, told Shawn that she was looking at his words beyond surface value.
He breathed heavily in frustration and leaned back against his end of the couch. It was completely useless if Angela was just going to analyze his words until there was nothing left, he thought.
Angela could only sit silently, wondering if Shawn ever thought of her as a burden. She wondered if, despite his declarations of love, he ever resented her for leaving him alone for a year, unable to be with her or any other girl. Her worries slowly deteriorated her ability to stay quiet, and in a split second, she spoke out.
"Are you ever sorry that you gave all of that up?" Her words were spoken clearly, sternly, with no interference from her emotions.
Shawn was caught off guard by Angela's seemingly-cold, direct inquiry. He was obviously puzzled.
"Do you wish that you had continued dating those air-brained, blonde, bubbly types? Did you ever wish you could do something more than just...look at Brittany?" she asked in that same serious tone.
"Angela, where is this coming from?" Shawn was clearly put off by her skepticism about his love. "How did you get that out of what I just said?"
"I don't know, Shawn, maybe it was the way you made it sound like I should be thankful for you not cheating on me, not to mention the emphasis you put on how beautiful Brittany is," Angela said hotly.
Shawn stood up and threw his arms in the air, no longer able to think rationally. "What? Do you want me to lie to you? Do you want me to pretend that you're the only attractive woman in this world? I didn't know you were so damned insecure!" he shouted.
His words ripped into Angela's heart with a scorching forcefulness. How could he not understand? He usually understood her better than anyone, even Topanga. Angela looked at the furious scowl on Shawn's face. She looked around the apartment, at the TV that they'd watched together night after night, the small table where they shared casual snacks and romantic candle-lit dinners, the bed where they woke up in each other's arms every morning. It all seemed so ugly to her now, as she looked through angry, saddened eyes.
Angela stood up and went to retrieve some of her possessions from the large oak chest-of-drawers. She hastily shoved a few items into a large blue mesh bag and flung it over her shoulder.
Shawn could only watch her, unable to speak, unable to think. He knew she was leaving him, maybe for good, and all his hopes for a long, happy life together crumbled, one by one. His true love was about to walk out of his life, and he could do nothing but stand still.
Angela stepped over to where Shawn was standing, leaning in so close to him that he wondered for a brief second if she might kiss him. The fiery look of rage in her eyes, however, made it clear that her intentions were very different.
"I guess you answered my question, Shawn," she whispered furiously, trying with all her might to keep from crying. "I never knew you could be so heartless."
Shawn was paralyzed, mentally and physically, as Angela marched out the door, slamming it behind her. She was gone. The apartment was silent, and Shawn was alone. He closed his eyes in hopes of suffocating the pain that shot through his heart the moment he was able to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened, but nothing would help. His dreams were crushed, his heart was broken, and she was gone.