Looking into Ella's slightly angry eyes, Eric let out a bitter, mocking laugh. He stared at her, his heart feeling as if it were being torn apart, his logic nearly overtaken by anger.
"Ella, why should I be reasonable? I've never liked the son of a mistress, so why should I swallow my pride to let him stay here? Do you know what people will say? You've never insisted on anything with me before, but now, for him, you're calling me petty? Saying I'm being unreasonable?"
Eric scoffed. "You care about him, don't you? But what about me—am I not exhausted? These past few weeks, have you spared a thought for me?"
Ella stood there, stunned, her eyes reddening. "Yes! You're right, I haven't cared for you! My attention has been elsewhere. He's in a vegetative state—how could I possibly be happy? Do you want him dead to make yourself feel better?"