Anger.
Cece felt anger, red hot anger, hot enough to hurt herself, or worse, Oliver.
"What do you mean, Olie?"
"Cece, I—"
"What do you mean by reading my story? What do you know about Gavin? Are you two in touch? What do you talk about?"
"You need to calm down, Cece."
"Oh yeah? Really, should I calm down? You knew everything about me, didn't you? All this time, you knew but you didn't think you should tell me anything about it?"
"Because I couldn't, and I will not. I am not supposed to."
"What the hell does that mean?"
Cece stopped yelling and dropped herself on the couch. Her entire body was shaking in anger, frustration, and apprehension. She was angry with both Oliver and herself, frustrated with her life that turned out to be another half-baked plot of a fucked up story. But most of all, she was scared.
