Page 64 of Wreckage of Me
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Give me a few minutes, please.”
“Sure thing,” he echoes back, then the door to the bathroom closes.
I hope Oliver went home, I think to myself as I towel off. After the words he spewed at me right before I got sick, I don’t have the energy to deal with him, let alone have a smartass remark.
My thoughts shift to Dylan, and I almost start crying.
Why did I let him get away with any of that today? Why didn’t I fight him when he pushed me against that door? Why did I challenge him when he dared me not to follow his directive?
I loved each second of his attention, everything that he did to me. I wanted more. I always seem to want more from him. Trying to date Oliver was a massive mistake. I thought he’d help me get over this infatuation I have with Dylan. But it just complicated my life more.
With a heavy sigh, I drop the towel and put on the bathrobe I always have hanging on a hook on the bathroom door. I look back into the shower stall and see the clothes I peeled off my body after getting in. They can stay there for now.
I walk into my bedroom, but stop short when I hear male voices downstairs. With a hand pressing on my stomach, I rush down where Colton is talking with Oliver, both of them with a serious expression on their faces.
“You’re still here,” I look at Oliver, my voice decidedly weak sounding.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me with an apprehensive look on his face.
“I’ll let you two talk?” Colton says, but it comes out like a question. When I look at him, I see he’s staring at me, waiting for me to give him permission to leave the room, almost like he worries about leaving me alone with Oliver all of a sudden.
“Thank you, Colt,” I give him a smile, at least I try to. I’m sure it looks more like a grimace instead.
I cross my arms and brace myself for whatever Oliver wants to tell me, although, I can already tell, it’s nothing good.
“I’m sorry about your car,” I repeat my apologies from earlier. “If you send me the clean-up bill, I’ll make sure to pay it right away,” I assure him again.
“Thanks.” He continues staring at me like I just fell from another planet. “I got a message while you were in the shower, and I have some questions for you.”
“Okay…” I can’t fathom what this could be about.
“You got your blood drawn three days ago. At the hospital,” he explains like I don’t know what the hell I did and when.
My heart starts beating louder in my ears, almost to the point where it drowns everything else out. I am focused solely on Oliver and what he’s trying to tell me.
“And?” I raise both eyebrows in challenge when he’s paused for dramatic effect. “Does the hospital have a policy against their employees getting a medical exam at their place of employment?”
“I can’t believe I almost fell for this,” he puts his head back and laughs at the ceiling.
“Isn’t it a HIPAA violation for them to share my personal information with you?” I inquire in a snarky voice.
Oliver snorts in amusement, like I’m dense. “As a practicing medical doctor at said hospital, I have access to any patient’s records.”
“Oh, and you decided to look mine up out of the blue?” I know I’m just dragging it at this point when I should just let him say his piece and go away.
“I happened to see you walking in there, and I asked Ashley about it.”
Ashley is the receptionist at the lab. I should’ve just gone somewhere else, but I thought that was the easiest.
“If you’re trying to turn this on me,” Oliver points his finger at me, “make me look like the bad guy somehow, think again, Becca.”
“I really have nothing to say to you, Oliver. You should go.” I step to the side, hoping he’s getting the message and just leaves.
“You really don’t think you owe me an explanation?” he snorts again, sounding as snobby as he looks, very upper class attitude at all times.
“I really don’t, Oliver,” I snap at him. “We went out a couple of times, we made out a couple of times. And now,” I open my arms wide, “we’re not going to see each other anymore. It’s up to you how civil you want this to be going forward.”
I don’t know who he thinks he is, but I’m not going to put up with his shit.
