Melody said she still loved him, and all Ben could think was yeah, right, because this is what love is supposed to feel like.

"I didn't give up," he said, voice tight. Not that saying it would make any difference whatsoever, when she had apparently already made up her mind about it all. Everything she was doing was proof that she cared — everything she was doing being, apparently, lying around feeling sick — while everything he was doing was proof that he'd given up already. "But I don't know how to prove it to you. I don't know what else you want from me. Because I can't just — not fucking talk to anyone ever again because it might make you insecure," he said tensely. He retrieved his shirt from the floor and started to pull it over his injured arm, not looking at her anymore. "I need a life beyond just waiting around for you to say something to me. And I'm sorry if your whole life is just staying in your room feeling miserable, but — but you don't get to take it out on me because I'm not sick."