Margaret

“You aren't in love with me."
She blinked. "I'm not?"
"No," he said emphatically. "You just think you are. You're confused," he explained...
She knew where he was headed. "I see."
"Transference."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's called transference. It's kind of like a patient falling in love with a doctor. It's not real," he stressed.
"That's what I'm suffering from?"
"Not suffering, honey," he said. "But I do think you've confused gratitude for love."
She pretended to ponder the possibility for a long minute and then said, "I believe you might be right."
"You do?" He sounded a little stunned.
"Yes, I do." She said more forcefully.
He wanted confirmation. "So you realize you don't love me."
"That's exactly what I realize," she told him. "It's that transference thing all right. I was confused, but I am not any longer. Thank you for clearing it up for me."
He shot her a hasty glance. "That was pretty damn quick wasn't it?"
"When you're right, you're right."
"That's it?" He was suddenly furious with her and didn't care that it showed. Damn it, she had told him she loved him, and after a one-minute argument, she caved. What the hell kind of love was that? "That's all you have to say?"
"No, actually there is just one more thing I'd like to mention."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"You're an idiot.”
― Julie Garwood, Heartbreaker