He listened intently, nodding. “Okay, I’ll be there. Don’t worry.” He hung up and turned to me. “Something happened to Naomi. She’s in the hospital. She needs me.”
I stood there, my mouth open. “What about me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver shrugged. “You can handle yourself. Naomi’s weak right now. She needs me.”
“I need you!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. “I’m your girlfriend, Oliver! Or does that mean nothing to you?”
“She’s like a sister to me,” he said, his tone impatient. “If you love me, you’d understand. Now stop acting like a jealous girlfriend. It’s pathetic.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving with anger and heartbreak. He didn’t care. Not about what happened to me, not about us. Naomi was always going to come first.
Without another word, I walked past him, grabbed my things, and left. Tears blurred my vision as I locked myself in the bathroom, muffling my sobs with a towel. How could he? How could he be so heartless?
I cried until my chest ached, my tears soaking the towel. I had nothing left to say to Oliver. I couldn’t even look at him anymore.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was my mom.