Chase Thompson, with red eyes and a trembling voice, confronted me. "Are you really going to give up our seven years for him?"
I gave him a look that could cut glass. "I’m just helping my brother fulfill some wishes. Can you understand that?"
——
Emma's POV
"I'm making a big deal out of this? Jason, which eye of yours saw me making a fuss? I just accidentally liked the post. Is it really necessary to start a confrontation over it?"
I tried to keep my voice steady, but the anger was bubbling beneath the surface.
On the other end of the phone, Jason's voice sounded exhausted and irritated. "I...you know I don’t have time for this right now. Ava’s not well, and her emotions are all over the place. I need to be by her side."
"Oh, she’s dying? How tragic," I interrupted, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Should I send over flowers or maybe visit her in her ‘final moments’ to see her frail little body?"
"Emma! How can you say that? Ava, she..." Jason tried to explain, but I cut him off.
"She, she, she—bullshit! Jason, wake up! Ava isn’t sick! She’s just playing the victim for sympathy, and you’re falling for it—hook, line, and sinker!" My voice was shaking with rage now.