"You got married?" her voice was laced with defeat. She didn't want to believe it.
She wasn't crying anymore. The part of her that wanted to cry was now being overpowered by shock. Dean was married. Married. To some stranger. The man who would laugh in the face of commitment now had a thick silver band on his ring finger. That would explain the driveway, the house… the tucked in shirt. She exhaled, mainly in disbelief. They'd all tried to hide him from her for this exact reason, and frankly, she wished she'd never found him. The pain of knowing he'd nailed the coffin shut by saying his marriage vows to another woman was far worse than the pain of not having him in her life at all. Ignorance wouldn't have been bliss, but it sure as hell would have been better than this.
"You were dead. For three years," he said huskily after a few moments of silence.
Her eyes quickly traveled to meet his. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him on this, it wasn't like he could walk away from marriage. She would never ask him to do that. But what could she do? The logical part of her knew that it wouldn't end well. She would be the one that would have to walk away. But the irrational part of her-her heart-wouldn't allow her to pick up her feet.
"You got married…" she said again, this time in a soft whisper. But he heard it.
"I got married. And we're having a baby. I'm happy, Ry… we're happy," he revealed, sounding almost as if he was trying to convince himself.
But to her, he was just salting the open wound. Her eyes shut tightly, pushing a few more tears down her cheeks. Married. Baby. Happy. How was this even possible?
"I see…" she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him for the last time.
She couldn't stand there with him anymore. It was as if someone-a UFC fighter, probably-had punched her in the stomach. If she stood near him any longer, she'd throw up.
"I-I have to go." Frantically, she rushed out of the garage, unsure if he had even tried to call out to her or come after her. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She kept her eyes on Sam, who was propped up against the Charger, a sympathetic look on his face. At the sight of him, she began to run, practically crashing into his arms as she broke down. She wished she'd listened. She wished she'd stayed back.
Sam's oversized arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. He was keeping her together at that point. If he hadn't been there, she wouldn't have made it. There was no way. She drenched his button-down with her tears, heaving almost as he tried to comfort her.
"It's gonna be okay…" he said as he smoothed her hair.
But they both knew that was a lie. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.