No matter how much she reassured him, Oliver couldn't believe Katie. He wouldn't believe her. She knew that Flint was the one person Oliver hated more than anyone else. No amount of whiskey could hinder Katie's reasoning on that level. To go home with Marcus, to go to bed with him, it would take a conscious decision. And if he could believe that she didn't do it strictly to hurt him, that meant she did it because she felt something for Flint.
"You keep putting all of this on me," Oliver said with a sigh. "I know I shouldn't have left that morning, but you didn't wait a bloody day before you started throwing a fit and lashing out. So don't, Katie. Don't act like I'm the only one at fault here because this isn't all my fault. I screwed up, but so did you. Don't presume to know what you mean to me either. And I thought I knew you better than anyone, but I never thought you'd go home with the one person I hated the most."
Her confession shocked Oliver. He wasn't there yet. It took Oliver a long time to even admit he fancied Katie. He didn't fall in love with women. He'd never been in love. He'd never said that to anyone in that way before. Oliver simply stared at Katie, unsure of what he was supposed to say. But, slowly, a look of anger began to cross his face again. "That is the worst thing you could say to me," he said. "And unfair. You can't throw that at me after all of this and then tell me that I need to sort things out! Stop FUCKING putting this all on me, Bell."