He pulled the button up back on as she spoke and thought about what she said. That it never should have happened. Dean had never really thought about that. Sure he'd wished it hadn't happened, sure he'd been angry, but he'd never really put it in those words. He idly wondered what that said about him, if maybe deep down he thought he deserved the hand he had been given, if he really thought so little of himself that he could believe that.
He finished his beer in another long drink. "I guess," he finally said. "But uhm, we should maybe start talking about something else," he suggested. He felt tired, worn from his sudden desire to be honest and open and the things it brought up.