Page 109 of His Heart

“What the fuck, Olivia?”

She shook her head. “Quit pretending you don’t know what you’re doing. I’ve seen you do it before. I even fucking fell for it again. I came all the way out here because I thought, shit, I said some hurtful things and if she’s in a bad place, maybe I can help. But it was just the same game again. What is it this time? Has Sebastian been too busy to pay attention to you? You have to invent more fucking drama so people will tell you how sweet you are?”

“Is that what you think of me?” I asked. “That I manufacture drama to get attention?”

“You get everyone to make excuses for you,” she said. “My parents did it. Of course Sebastian does it. He’s blind when it comes to you. But now Joe, and even Charlie. God, it’s like people meet you and they want to fucking fall all over themselves to make you happy.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I’ve never asked anyone to make excuses. I missed a couple of days of work. Why are you being so dramatic about it?”

“Oh, I’m not the one being dramatic,” she said. “I don’t know why Joe doesn’t just fire you.”

Anger blazed to life, making my cheeks hot. I stood, clenching my hands into fists. “What have I ever done to you?”

“Where do I begin?” she asked. “You put my parents through hell after Liam died. They bent over backwards to help you, and you just bailed.”

“I bailed because you told me you didn’t want me around,” I said. “You told me I wasn’t part of your family.”

“Because you were already such a fucking mess,” she said. “And all they could talk about was poor Brooke. That poor girl.”

“So they shouldn’t have given a shit about me?” I asked.

“Maybe they should have given a shit about me,” she said, stepping closer. “He was my brother.”

“Is that why you resent me so much?” I asked. “Because of the way your parents treated me after he died?”

“You have no idea what it was like,” she said. “And it never really stopped. Everyone jumps to come to your fucking rescue. I lost my brother and everyone was so busy worrying about you, they didn’t bother to worry about me.”

“And you think that was my fault?” I asked. “You think I asked for that? For any of it? I would have done anything to have him back. To have not gone on that stupid trip.”

“But you did,” she said. “He wanted to rescue you, too. He couldn’t fucking help himself.”

The meaning behind her words screamed at me. It made my anger boil, running through my veins like fire. “Because he loved me.”

“Yeah, and it killed him,” she said. “He fucking died because of you.”

My hand flew, my open palm striking her cheek with a loud smack. She stepped back, grabbing the side of her face while I stared at her in horror. Without a word, she grabbed her coat and ran out the door. Slammed it behind her.

I staggered backward, my heart racing. Oh my god. What had I done? I’d hit her. I’d gotten so angry, I’d slapped her across the face.

Just like my mom had done to me.

Her tires squealed as she backed out of the driveway. How could I have done that? To her, of all people. I covered my mouth as I choked out a sob.

God, what was wrong with me? Why was I such a fucking disaster? I stumbled to my room and shut the door behind me. I thought about getting my phone—trying to call or text her. But what different would it make? It was better if she left me—if she stayed away. It would be better if everyone did.

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