"Which of my words do you actually listen to?!" All the pent-up frustration exploded out of me, and my shout only escalated his anger.
He shouted, "I was just trying to do something nice for you! If you don't want it, fine! Don't eat it, but why throw a fit?
"It's just forgetting my allergy! You act like it's no big deal! Why are you yelling at me?"
He angrily grabbed the takeout and tossed it into the trash.
"Fine! If you don't want it, then don't eat it!"
With that, Oliver stormed out, slamming the door behind him with such force that it made my heart race.
I collapsed onto the couch, shaking as tears streamed down my face.
I had never been the one truly loved; I was just an afterthought in his life.
Oliver didn't come home that night, and I was used to it by now.
I woke up groggily, only to find his jacket still draped over the chair.
The scent of his cologne made me feel nauseous. I absentmindedly rifled through the pockets and found a sachet tucked inside.
It smelled just like the sweet, cloying fragrance Lillian wore.
The stitching on the sachet was crooked, and the scent had faded, suggesting it had been in the pocket for a while.