The therapist secret

Chapter 16

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The sun streamed through the thin curtains of Bella's living room, casting pale streaks of light across her face as she lay on the couch. Her head pounded, the aftereffects of last night's whiskey-fueled breakdown. She blinked slowly, the weight of the call with Layla still pressing heavy on her chest.

*What does he have that I don't?* Her own words from the night before echoed in her mind, a raw reminder of the vulnerability she had laid bare. She wasn't sure which stung more: the fact that she had said it or the fact that Layla hadn't answered.

Bella pushed herself up, wincing as the movement sent another wave of pain through her skull. Her throat was dry, her mouth tasting bitter from the alcohol and regret. She stared at the empty bottle on the coffee table, feeling an old, familiar guilt rise up in her chest. The guilt of slipping back into her worst habits, the guilt of saying too much, of being too much.

*I shouldn't have called.*

The phone lay beside her, a stark reminder of her mistake. She had exposed herself, her feelings, her insecurities—everything she had tried so hard to keep under control. And Layla's silence on the other end had spoken louder than any words. She could still hear it now: the hesitation in Layla's voice, the unspoken answer Bella wasn't ready to face.

With a groan, Bella stood up and stumbled toward the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water, sipping slowly as she tried to shake the fog from her brain. But no matter how much water she drank, it couldn't wash away the ache in her chest.

What did she expect? Layla had never promised her anything. Their relationship had been professional—therapist and client. That's how it had started. That's how it was supposed to stay. But somewhere along the way, Bella had let herself fall. And now she was stuck in this tangled mess of feelings she couldn't untangle.

Bella walked to the window, staring out at the world that felt too bright and too far away from where she stood. She rubbed her temples, trying to think of a way to fix this, to go back to how things were before. Before the confession. Before the late-night call. Before she realized how deep her feelings ran.

The doorbell rang, startling her from her thoughts.

Bella's heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she wondered if it could be Layla, but then dismissed the thought. Layla wouldn't just show up here, especially not after last night. Bella ran a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself before walking over to the door.

She opened it to find Sophie, her closest friend, standing on the doorstep with a concerned look on her face. Sophie's dark eyes scanned Bella's face, taking in her disheveled appearance and the hollow look in her eyes.

"Bella," Sophie said gently, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "What happened?"

Bella let out a shaky sigh and shut the door behind her, leaning against it for support. "I made a mess of things," she muttered, running a hand over her face.

Sophie crossed her arms, giving Bella the kind of no-nonsense look that had always made it hard for her to hide anything. "What kind of mess? Talk to me."

Bella sighed again, motioning for Sophie to follow her into the kitchen. She poured another glass of water and sat down at the table, Sophie settling across from her, waiting patiently.

"I... I called Layla last night," Bella finally admitted, her voice heavy with regret.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, not surprised but definitely concerned. "Okay. And?"

"And I was drunk," Bella added, her gaze dropping to the table. "I said things I shouldn't have. Asked her why she's with some other guy. Why I'm not enough."

Sophie winced at that, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, Bella."

"I know," Bella said, burying her face in her hands. "I know it was stupid. I shouldn't have done it, but I—" She paused, her voice breaking. "I don't know how to handle this, Soph. I don't know how to deal with how I feel about her. I'm too old for her, for all of this. She deserves someone like him, not... not me."

Sophie was silent for a moment, her gaze softening. "Bella, age doesn't define whether or not you're worthy of love. You know that."

Bella shook her head, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists. "It's not just that. It's everything. I'm her therapist. Or at least I was. And now I'm just... I've crossed every line imaginable."

"You didn't mean for this to happen," Sophie said quietly. "You can't help who you fall for."

Bella's eyes filled with tears, her throat tightening as she looked at her friend. "But I've ruined everything, Soph. She won't look at me the same way now. She knows how I feel, and I—"

Sophie reached across the table, squeezing Bella's hand. "Take a deep breath. You need to give yourself some grace here. It's not over yet."

Bella swallowed, her vision blurred by the tears threatening to spill over. "I don't know what to do."

"First, you need to talk to her," Sophie said gently. "Not as her therapist, but as someone who cares about her. You need to be honest, Bella."

Bella let out a shaky breath, the weight of Sophie's words settling over her. "What if she doesn't want to hear it?"

Sophie smiled softly. "You won't know unless you try."

Bella nodded slowly, her heart heavy with the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The thought of talking to Layla again—really talking to her—scared her more than anything. But Sophie was right. She couldn't run from this anymore.

Bella stared at her phone, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety. The fear of rejection. But she knew what she had to do.

Even if it broke her, she had to face it. Face *her*.