Page 33 of The Omega Switch: Part 1
"What’s going on?" I asked, and she sighed.
“Well, I should say it but… Ivy’s always struggled.” Arabella said. The statement didn't explain the marks on her arm.
"Struggled how?" I probed. Arabella twisted her hands together.
"She doesn't always handle stress very well." She said, her voice low as she glanced around. My heart sank, and I frowned.
"What does that mean exactly? I saw marks on her. She’s overusing descenter."
Arabella looked surprised, then uncomfortable. "Well… I love her, of course. She's my sister. But she can be very unwell at times. Mentally. And, sometimes, she can be self-destructive."
The shock came first, then the hurt that coursed through me. Ivy was self-destructive? I could see her being shy or introverted, but not someone who hurt herself.
"Self-destructive?" I asked slowly, my mind racing.
"Nothing that dramatic," Arabella said as she gave a nervous laugh. "But yeah, she doesn’t know how to handle it when I succeed. I think she likes to get attention, because it takes away from me.” Arabella’s words sounded hurt, and for a moment, I didn’t want to believe it. But if Ivy had a history of trying to get attention to the point where she was hurting herself, then she needed more help than what her family could give.
“That’s not good. She needs help,” I said, my mind suddenly worried for both omegas.
"I've spent years trying to help her," Arabella said. "Trying to teach her how to take care of herself. How to be a healthy omega. I mean, I’m an expert. But she doesn’t listen. She has extreme jealousy issues as well, so, with me finding my match, I’m sure it set her off.” Arabella looked crestfallen, and I wrapped her in a hug.
“Don’t feel guilty about your own achievements.” I said, holding her tightly. This would explain the markers in her file for low self-worth. If Ivy acted out every time Arabella succeeded, it would explain so much. The conflict, the tension, and maybe, Ivy’s appearance lately. “But you aren’t a professional. You can be a sister to her, but she needs more help than you can give.” I said, and Arabella nodded, biting her lip.
“I know. She doesn’t want help, though. She thinks I’m the problem,” Arabella said, her voice wavering. I felt my heart sink. This was worse than I thought. Ivy needed help - but first, I needed to help my mate. I pulled Arabella to me, already vowing in my mind to get her out of this situation.
“You can’t force someone to get help if they don’t want it. But we can encourage it, and we won’t give up on her.” I said, hugging Arabella tightly. No wonder her trauma markers were high - there was more going on between these two than I ever would have guessed.
Arabella nodded into my chest. “Don’t worry, omega,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “I’ll find a way to fix this. For both your sakes.”
Chapter 22
Ivy
Bed rotting in my room was becoming my new hobby. Even the lab couldn’t distract me forever. I still felt an ache in my chest every time I thought about Pack Vale and how they were snatched up by Arabella.
I was actually surprised at how much it was affecting me physically. It wasn’t as if we’d actually courted - I’d had some moments with each of them, and to me, they felt perfect. But clearly they didn’t feel the same way - even if they’d tried to maintain a good working relationship with me after.
I rubbed my chest, trying to ease the physical weight I felt. I was currently lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that the pain would pass using any method possible. Pack Vale wasn’t mine. They had never been mine.They'd never promised me anything. The only thing they'd done was treat me with kindness and respect, and somehow, I'd built an entire fantasy around it.
Meditation wasn’t working to distract me. I’d tried yoga, mindfulness, anything, and nothing was working. With a frustrated sigh, I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the nightstand. Maybe if I scrolled long enough, my brain would finally move on to something else.
The first video to appear in my feed was Arabella. I felt my heart rate spike. Of course it was - she was all over my algorithm, and there was no way I’d escape that as long as we worked at the same family company.
In the video, she was standing in our kitchen wearing a pale pink dress while soft music played in the background. It was another of her advice videos, where she somehow convinced thousands of people that she was the smartest omega alive.
"Three things every omega should know before bonding..."
I immediately swiped away. A few swipes later, another video appeared, still of Arabella.
"Real confidence isn't loud. True femininity comes from grace and self-respect."I sighed at her advice, which was so at odds with how she acted in real life.
Swipe.
"How to become the best version of yourself..."
I swiped again, irritated at all the comments from people who thought she was some type of role model. I was the one who lived with her - I saw the girl who stole credit for other people's work, the real Arabella who measured her success by whether someone else lost. Yet somehow, she was the omega all these followers admired.
Swipe.
