Aria
I spent most of the next morning in my pajamas, moving from the bed to the couch and back again like a broken record. The coffee table was littered with cold mugs of half-finished tea and stacks of abandoned paperwork that I’d half-heartedly tried to work on before giving up.
My day off wasn’t exactly comforting. It felt more like a punishment than a reprieve.
Around noon, my phone buzzed, breaking me out of a half-awake state on the sofa. I grabbed it and felt a little relieved upon seeing Bella’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Bells.”
“Hey yourself,” Bella replied. I could hear the sounds of dishes clinking and voices in the background; she had likely slipped into the walk-in freezer at her restaurant job just to call me. “How are you holding up?”
I shrugged even
