Extraordinarily Pleased

Half Empty

. . .

Fiona stared at the ogre who sat beside her at the table. His eyes lowered from hers, to his hands folded in front of him.

She couldn't speak, even if there'd been words she wanted to say. Her mind contained very little at the moment, as what Shrek had just told her cleared it of any coherent thought.

He'd mentioned he wanted to talk about something that had happened at the birthday party last month. She of course agreed, but she wasn't entirely sure what it was he was referring to - she'd racked her brain for anything negative or out of the ordinary at all that had happened that day.

When he'd arranged for Dragon and Donkey to take the kids for the day, the sinking feeling deepened in her mind that whatever it was, it would take more than a few minutes to discuss.

It's not like she hadn't noticed his dip in mood in the months previous. And it's not like she hadn't noticed its marked improvement in the last few weeks, either - as if a switch had been flipped, really. He was more affectionate with her - something she'd forgotten she'd missed until its resurgence reminded her. He no longer stayed up past when she would go to bed, for whatever reason he'd been doing so. It was as if he never wanted the kids out of his sight, caring for and playing with them as much as he physically was capable of, which of course absolutely delighted the three. Even their friends hadn't been wearing on his nerves like they tended to. She'd actually been so naive to think that celebrating their children's first birthday had been what helped him.

That's what she had let herself conclude, at least, up until about an hour ago.

The ogre she loved, married, had a family with, and was undeniably her True Love... had done this. And she'd been none the wiser.

She would have REMAINED none the wiser had he not told her.

None the wiser that she and her children had been snapped away with a few strokes of ink on parchment.

It felt as if the past month was some kind of cruel joke, taunting her with bliss while all the while waiting to deal the killing blow.

The ogre in front of her, inches from her, was sorry - TRULY sorry. She knew. She could feel it. He'd been tricked and manipulated by a conniving, highly intelligent individual. He'd thought it would be a one-and-done day, no strings attached.

But it didn't change what he'd done, consumed in his own self-absorption. What he'd failed to share with her for months on end - as if he'd been the only one struggling. What had almost been allowed to become permanent.

But he DID fix it. He'd set everything right in a nightmarish alternate universe that was built for his failure. And he fixed it by falling in love with her... well, NOT her, but whatever version of her had emerged in a timeline where she'd never been rescued.

Her mind was being pulled in two directions - one desperately clinging to how he'd redeemed himself, and one forcing her to acknowledge what needed redeeming in the first place.

She blinked, realizing she had just been staring at him, unaware of what expression her face wore, if any at all. She opened her mouth to speak, though she wasn't entirely sure what might leave her mouth. Shrek's eyes immediately lifted back up to her face as he saw her expression change. His ears receded ever so slightly.

Fiona couldn't produce any words, as seconds passed with her lips parted. She stood from her seat, her chair squeaking sharply on the floor at the abrupt movement. She felt her feet move her body towards the front door. She heard Shrek take a breath to speak, but she beat him to the punch.