Page 75 of Switch

I look up at her, waiting.

“That sounds like a man whodoesn’t deserveyou,” she says, her voice steady, cutting through my whirlwind of emotions. “And honestly? If he can’t see how fucking lucky he is to have you—if he makes you feel like anafterthoughtinstead of hispriority—then you need to ask yourselfwhyyou’re staying.”

Tears spill over before I can stop them, and I let out a shaky breath, dropping my head into my hands. Brooke doesn’t say anything and doesn’t push. She just reaches over, rubbing slow circles on my back, letting me feel what I need to feel. Because deep down? I know she’s right.

Brooke squeezes my hand, giving me that solid, unwavering strength she always has. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” she says gently. “Just stay here tonight, okay? Get some sleep. Clear your head.”

I nod, too exhausted to argue. It feels like my whole body is made of lead, weighed down by the emotional wreckage of tonight. I lean back into the couch, staring off into space, wine glass in hand, tears spilling every few minutes. Brooke doesn’t push, doesn’t try to fix it. She just stays with me, sipping her wine, letting me cry in waves until the exhaustion finally wins and I drift off, still tangled in heartbreak.

TWENTY-FIVE

BELLA

I pullthe blankets over my head, willing the world to disappear. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I peek at it, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’s Jax.

It’s not.

It’s my alarm, reminding me I should already be in the shower, getting ready for work.

I let out a long sigh and roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My chest feels heavy, my mind fogged with exhaustion, not from lack of sleep but from thinking too damn much. Thinking about Jax. Thinking about how easily he let me walk away. Thinking about how much it hurts that he still hasn’t called or texted.

I don’t want to deal with today.

With a deep breath, I grab my phone and pull up Amelia’s contact. My fingers hover over the screen for a second before I press call.

She answers on the second ring. “Hey, Bella. Everything okay?”

I close my eyes. “Not really. I think I need a mental health day.”

There’s a pause before she answers, softer this time. “Of course. I’ll let Dr. Davis know. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Thanks, Amelia.”

I hang up and drop my phone onto the bed beside me, exhaling heavily. One day. Just one day to get my head on straight.

I throw the blankets off and force myself up, shuffling to the kitchen for coffee.

Thursday Morning – Brooke’s House

I wake up to the smell of coffee and the faint sound of the TV coming from the living room. My head is heavy, my body sluggish from too little sleep and too much thinking.

I roll onto my side, staring at the ceiling, willing myself to feel something other than this dull ache in my chest.

Jax still hasn’t called.

Not that I expected him to.

I exhale, forcing myself to sit up. My jeans from yesterday are folded neatly on the chair, my sweater draped over the back. Brooke must’ve done that before she went to bed.

I tug them on and pad out of the guest room, following the scent of coffee into the kitchen.

Brooke is already there, sitting at the table in an oversized hoodie, her legs pulled up onto the chair, a steaming mug in her hands. She glances up when I walk in, her brows lifting slightly.

“Morning,” she says around a sip of coffee.

I grunt in response and head straight for the coffee maker, pouring myself a mug before leaning against the counter. The first sip is hot and strong, exactly what I need, but it doesn’t do much to shake the weight pressing against my ribs.

Brooke watches me for a long moment, then sets her mug down. “So… what’s the plan?”

---