Page 74 of Switch

I yank my bag off the bed, shoving past him. “Leaving.”

His face hardens. “You’re being fucking dramatic right now. You know that?”

I whip around, my vision blurred with unshed tears. “No, Jax.I’m done.”

There’s something in his expression—something flickering behind his tired, stormy eyes. Regret? Guilt? Something deeper? Whatever it is, I don’t stick around to figure it out.

I grab my keys and march toward the door, my pulse pounding in my ears. My fingers tighten around the cold metal, my breath shaky as I pull it open. I step outside, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

Some stupid, hopeless part of mewaits. Waits for him to follow. Waits for him to stop me. For him to saysomething—anything. Ask me to stay. Tell me he doesn’t want me to go. Hell,begif that’s what it takes. But the door stays shut behind me. And with every step I take toward my car, reality sinks in. He’s not coming after me.

Tears blur my vision as I drive, my hands gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles hurt. I can barely breathe as I fumble with my phone, pressing Brooke’s name.

She answers on the second ring, her voice groggy. “Bella? What the hell—wait, what’s wrong?”

I sniff, my breath hitching. “Can I come over?”

“Of course,” she says immediately, fully awake now. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m almost there,” I say, my voice breaking.

“Pull in the driveway. I’ll be outside,” she tells me.

By the time I get to her house, she’s standing on the porch, arms crossed, her long hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing leggings and one of her expensive cashmere sweaters. As soon as I step out of the car, she’s moving. That’s when I start balling. I drop my bag and she pulls me into a tight hug. “Shit, Bella. You’re shaking.” I don’t even notice. She holds me for a long moment before guiding me inside. She tells me to sit on the couch.

After a minute, she comes back with a glass of wine and hands it to me. “Okay. Talk.”

I take a deep breath, my voice shaking. “Jax finally got home tonight, super late. I was pissed off and we got into this huge fight.”

Her brows pull together. “Understandably. What set it off?”

I swallow hard and nod. “Him being gone all week with hardly any contact. He came in and is just like, ‘hey’. He had the nerve to act likeIwas the problem for being upset about it.”

Brooke’s face darkens. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shake my head, wiping at my eyes. “And then he—he said I was beinga psycho girlfriend and I knew what I was signing up for.”

Her entire body stiffens and the look she gives me could turn someone to stone. “That fuckingasshole,” she seethes. “I could murder the damn jerk.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Brooke exhales sharply, setting her wine glass down with a little too much force. She leans back against the couch, crossing her arms, her expression tightening like she’s reining in a whole lot of opinions she’s about to let loose.

“Bella, IlikeJax, you know that,” she starts, her voice measured but firm. “But if he thinks he can just disappear fordaysand then gaslight you into thinking you’re crazy for being upset about it, he’s out of his goddamn mind.”

Her words hit hard, cracking through the last bit of resolve I’ve been holding onto. I swallow against the lump in my throat, my hands tightening around the blanket she wrapped around me earlier. My eyes burn, and I hate it. I hate feeling like this—like I’m crumbling over a man who, despite all the ways he’s made me feel wanted, still somehow makes me feel like I’mnot enough.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, my voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have moved in with him. I should have known better.”

Brooke’s head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing. “What should you have known?”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I wipe at my face. “That I might be his girlfriend, but I’llnevercome first.”

Brooke’s brows pull together, but she stays quiet, letting me get it out.

“He wants me when it’sconvenientfor him,” I say, my voice thick with frustration, anger, andhurt. “When he’s not busy with the club, when he has time to spare,thenhe wants me. And I don’t care if it makes me sound weak, or clingy, orwhatever the fuck elsehe thinks I am—I want him to want meall the time.” My fingers tighten around the blanket in my lap, my breath coming faster. “I don’t want to be something he keeps around just so he doesn’t get bored.”

Brooke’s jaw tenses, and she shakes her head slowly. “You know what that sounds like to me?”

---