Bella pretended to be nervous, chasing after me. “Olivia, don’t be upset. I won’t see Danny anymore.” Then she ran toward the stairs.
Daniel didn’t hesitate—he ran after her. After two steps, he looked back and shouted, “Olivia! Don’t be dramatic! I’ll deal with her and then come find you!”
I didn’t look back, didn’t stop walking.
At the restaurant door, the night breeze hit me, and I finally understood: if someone never put you in their heart to begin with, no amount of sacrifice will ever fill the space between him and his “brother.”
When I got home, I wrapped myself in a blanket on the couch, coughing. Soon after, Daniel came in.
Kicking off his shoes, he muttered, “Bella’s ignoring me. She said my apology to you wasn’t sincere and she won’t see me anymore.”
Every word was about Bella—nothing about my humiliation.
I ignored him, went to the kitchen for a glass of water.
He tossed his jacket onto the sofa, his voice full of irritation. “What do you want from me? Do you need me to fight with her before you’re satisfied?”