When she said exactly what he'd been thinking, exactly the thing that had been hurting him most all along, Finn rubbed his sun-browned hands over his face, and he nodded. "That's what bothered me," he said, but then shook his head. "What hurt me," he amended, because he thought it was more honest, and that seemed to be the way they were doing this, finally. "I didn't know what had happened to you but I just wanted to be able to fix it."
He shrugged, because it was behind them, and though in the past such things would have made him bitter and stubbornly angry maybe permanently, he only wanted to move past it now, with her. "But who the hell would have thought when you promised me that that the first test of it would be some fucked up shit like this?" Finn said, making it clear he wasn't going to hold onto the anger there.
But then when she went on Finn's expression shifted, his hands dropped, and he looked somewhat bewildered. He never would have realized it himself with all his bravado, but hearing her state that kind of faith in him threw him, made him realize he didn't really have it in himself. He'd screwed up so completely in his marriage, in his relationship with his father, and with his brother, that he'd given up somewhat on himself. He stared at her a moment and wished she'd come closer, but instead just lifted his hands, palms up. "I don't know what I did to deserve that," he said. "But let me say I'm glad for whatever it was."