Covetousness. Envy. Jealousy. They had never existed in Oliver's vocabulary.
It was not a feeling he was familiar with, he had never felt jealous of anyone or anything. Because it was always the opposite. People were jealous of him. Even Tommy. Not that he would have ever said it out loud, but Oliver could tell. Tommy envied Oliver's family; the presence of his father, his mother, the home they had. And Oliver didn't blame him.
And he would never envy anyone either.
At times, he would get upset when he saw Laurel with Tommy, but his anger was toward himself. Because he was the one who ran away with her sister, because he ruined things between them. And that upset him. But never jealous.
He thinks about what Diggle said earlier that night; that he didn't have a problem with Felicity's performance until she met Barry Allen. Diggle's wrong, he tells himself.
He recalls the day Felicity called him to say that she was leaving for Central City, and that she didn't know how long she was going to stay there. He hadn't bothered asking why she was leaving. He knew it was because of Barry. It was later that day in the foundry that he got to know through Digg that Barry was in the hospital.
But what he felt wasn't jealousy. Diggle was wrong. What Oliver felt was anger, because she was gone, she had left hi - them, all by themselves. He felt helpless without her. How did she imagine he was supposed to carry on without her? Barry was in coma, and she wouldn't be much of a help there anyway, she could have been here. With hi - them. With them. Diggle and him. He wasn't jealous.
Later, when he and Diggle were alone at the foundry, he told the man that he was wrong; that he wasn't jealous of Barry Allen.
Diggle looked at him knowingly, saying that he never said he was.