A/N: I'm so sorry this update took so long, but at last it is here! I want to thank everyone who has shown continued interest in this story. I've received a lot of great reviews and even private messages urging me to continue and I'm constantly blown away by how many people like this story. For those that are curious, this chapter is named after an old French song that translates to "I regret nothing". Thanks again, and I hope you all enjoy the new chapter!

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Her head was buzzing. She was faintly aware that she'd walked out of the hotel and down the street, not really knowing where she was going. The world was all a blur around her and she could hear nothing but Phil's cruel words repeating over and over in her head. "You disgust me."

It was surely over between them. She'd never seen him look so hateful, especially at her. But she knew he had every right to. She was disgusting for keeping the lies going so long. She had no one to blame but herself. Now she was left with nothing.

She stopped herself in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around. She focused in on the sound of rock music and people talking and laughing. Up ahead she saw a neon sign that read "Tilt". It was a bar, no doubt. Aidan fought with herself over going in. It had been years since she'd had a drink; did she really want to go down that road again? However, this had been one night that she longed to forget. Maybe a drink would be the thing she needed to calm herself down. She stared at the sign apprehensively.

Fuck it. One drink won't hurt.

She made her way inside. There were quite a few people around, which was a bother since she wanted to be left alone. She only hoped no one would recognize her.

She sat down at the bar. The bartender made his way over to her.

"Give me a whiskey on ice."

It wasn't long before the amber liquid was placed before her. She picked up the glass, swirling the drink around before placing it to her lips and taking a drink. Before she realized it, she'd drained the whole glass. She could feel the warmth from the alcohol spreading throughout her body.

"Give me another one," she said to the bartender, who seemed to be watching her somewhat dubiously. He did as she commanded and set a second drink before her.

It wasn't long before she could feel the pain from the day's drama slipping away. At the least, Phil's voice wasn't echoing in her head anymore.

"Hey, pretty lady."

The voice caught her off guard. She turned around to see a stranger had sat down beside her. He smiled at her suggestively. He was good looking, probably a couple of years younger than herself. He reeked of frat boy.

"Hey," she answered dismissively, and turned her back on him.

"I saw you sitting over here by yourself. You're too beautiful to be sitting all alone."

Aidan ignored him, staring blankly at the football game on the TV above the bar.

"What's the matter? You too good to talk to me?"

"I just want to be left alone right now."

"I know who you are. You're Aidan. You're one of those chick wrestlers."

Aidan turned an icy stare on the stranger.

"What do you want?"

"My buddies over there dared me to come talk to you." He pointed to a table in the corner where three more frat boys were watching them, giggling amongst themselves. "They bet me that I couldn't get an autograph."

Her icy stare grew colder, however it didn't seem to phase the drunken college boy.

"Look, if I sign an autograph, will you get the fuck away from me?"

He winced in jest. "Ooh, you're a lot meaner than you look on TV. I'll leave you alone, but I've got a special request. See, my buddies bet me I couldn't get you to sign my ass."

He tugged on his pants suggestively, a perverted grin on his lips.

Aidan looked at him in disbelief and disgust.

"Just get the hell out of here," she said turning her back on him again.

"Hey! Don't turn your back on me, bitch!"

The frat boy had barely touched her before she felt his arm being jerked away. She turned around to find Dean standing there, wrenching the frat boy's arm behind his back. He was screaming out in pain. When Dean spoke it was in a low and dangerous voice.

"You feel that? That's only a fraction of the pain you could be in. If you and your three lovers over there aren't gone in the next sixty seconds I will come after you and I'll break both of your arms. Understand?"

The frat boy screamed out a merciful "Yes!" and Dean turned him loose. He ran over to his buddies with his tail between his legs and just as Dean commanded, they were scrambling out of the bar as fast as their feet could carry them.

Dean ran a hand through his ever-disheveled hair. Aidan stared at him, a mixture of feelings running through her. She wasn't sure if she was happy or angry that he was there.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"You know, a 'thank you' wouldn't kill you now and then."

She stared at him and let out a weary sigh.

"Thank you for scaring off that jerk, but don't think you're going to get out of answering my question. What are you doing here, or more importantly, how did you find me?"

He shrugged.

"I followed you."

"Should I ask why?"

He looked a little apprehensive about what he was going to say next.

"I saw that you were upset. I wanted to make sure you were ok."

"So I guess you heard about what happened between me and Phil."

He stared at her knowingly.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and closed her eyes. Turning back toward the bar, she picked up her glass, drank what was left and signaled for another one. Dean stood there a moment before sitting down at the barstool beside her.

"You think drinking is going to solve anything?" Dean asked in a low, gravelly voice.

"No. But it might help me forget that my fiancé thinks I'm a disgusting piece of shit liar. And who are you to judge me anyway? I don't think you could be called Mr. Sobriety yourself!"

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"I'm not judging anybody. I just wanted to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

She scoffed.

"Believe me. I've got the gist of it."

Dean watched as she picked up her third glass.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not to you," she said abrasively.

There was anger seeping into his voice when he answered.

"I don't see anyone else around."

"Well, congratulations. Apparently you're the only one who gives a shit about me now. That doesn't make me feel any better."

Upon saying this, she realized he was right. Nobody had shown up to check on her. No one had even called. Maybe she had fewer friends than she thought. Dean, of all people, was the only one who cared enough to seek her out. He must have followed her at a distance just to make sure she didn't wind up in any trouble. She bit at her lip and blinked back tears.

"I'm sorry. That was a bitchy thing to say."

He shrugged.

"You're upset right now. I get that."

She shook her head, fighting a losing battle at staving off tears.

"He knows that I kissed you."

"How do you think he knows that?"

She hadn't thought about it until now, but someone had to have told Phil about the kiss she'd shared with Dean. Someone also knew that she'd slept with him years ago. But who could it be? The only person she had told was Daniel. Surely Daniel wouldn't have rushed out and told Punk before she could. There was only one other person who knew, and he happened to be sitting next to her.

"Have you told anybody?"

"No," he said firmly.

She gazed at him for a moment. He seemed sincere, as sincere as he could be.

"Well, it seems I have a new adversary. I don't have a clue who could have told him. Furthermore, I don't even know how this person found out about any of this."

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugged heavily.

"I don't know. I don't even know if I should consider myself engaged anymore. Whoever started all this is secondary to that fact. I'm going to have to take things one day at a time until I found out where my relationship stands."

He pursed his lips, considering her answer.

"What if Punk doesn't want you back?"

The idea stung but it was one she had to face.

"Then it is what it is. I made my choices and I've got no choice but to stick with them now."

Dean paused a moment, wondering in silence. He asked his next question with deliberation.

"Do you regret that kiss?"

She looked at him. She was sure it was probably the alcohol setting in, but the question made her smile.

"No, I don't."

She noticed he couldn't quite hide a smile of his own.

They sat there talking for hours until the bartender threw them out at closing. It had to have been close to four in the morning. Dean hailed a cab. By this point, she could barely stand up straight.

She crawled into the back of the cab and they rode just a few blocks before reaching the hotel again. Once they reached their destination, she mustered up what focus she had left in order to climb out of the backseat and stand on her own as Dean paid the fare.

"Where are you staying tonight?" Dean asked her.

She frowned. It was something else she hadn't thought about.

"I don't know."

"You can stay in my room, if you want. There's an empty bed. I was rooming with Bateman but he bailed on me."

"Lead the way," she said thickly.

They began walking in but she had gone as far as she could go. Her night out drinking had bitten a little harder than she'd imagined. She guessed she'd been away for too long to remember how much was too much.

Unsteady on her feet, she was suddenly picked up. Dean carried her in his arms to the elevator. She rested her head against his chest, too weary to object and too intoxicated to think about what others might think if they saw this.

They rode the elevator up a few floors and then he carried her the rest of the way to his room. He left the lights off and set her down gently on the bed. He didn't say anything, he just sat down on the bed opposite to hers.

She stared up at the ceiling. The room was spinning so she closed her eyes.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it like the night we slept together?"

He was silent for a few moments.

"I don't know, Aidan. I was pretty drunk that night too."

"Did you find me attractive?"

"…Yeah."

"What about now?"

"Of course."

She smiled.

"So would you fuck me again?"

There was more silence. Suddenly he was sitting on the bed beside her. She opened her eyes as he brushed the hair out of her face.

"Go to sleep," he said softly.

There was a knock on the door that seemed far away. She felt the weight of Dean's body leave the bed. She could hear him talking to someone at the door.

"…she's not going anywhere. She's in bed asleep and that's where she's going to stay."

"You realize Punk is going to lose his shit when he finds out about this."

"I don't really care what he thinks."

The voices were growing distant. They continued to argue a while before the door shut and things grew silent. Even without looking at him, she could feel that Dean was in an aggravated state. She tried to talk to him, but she was too weary to speak. She felt a blanket cover her body. She fell asleep to the sound of Dean's footsteps pacing the floor.