We drove in silence for a while. He held my hand, tracing circles on my skin that made my stomach twist. For a second, I almost believed it — this little lie that he cared. But then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and just like that, I vanished from his mind.
“What? Jasmine’s awake?” His eyes lit up in a way I’d never seen before — not for me. “Turn the car around. We need to go back. I have to be there. She’ll want to see me.”
I stared at him. “What about me? I’m sick, Scott.”
He looked at me like I was an insect crawling across his precious floor. “It’s just a stomachache, Nadine. Don’t be dramatic. Driver, pull over.”
The car slowed to the side of the road. Scott opened the door and practically shoved me out. The rain started in slow, icy drops that slid down my neck.
“Take this,” he said, tossing his black credit card at my feet like a bone for a starving dog. “Get a taxi to the hospital. You’ll be fine.”
“Scott—”
“Stay here,” he snapped at me, and then he was gone. The door slammed. The car sped away into the night — back to Jasmine. Back to the woman he always loved.