Bella awoke still sitting in her folding chair by the window, still wrapped in a towel. Judging by the light streaming in through her window, she assumed it was late morning. Therefore, Charlie would already be at work, so it was safe to wander the house without him poking into her life and asking intrusive questions that she wasn't prepared to answered.
Bella's life had seriously taken a plunge after he had left her. They were only a few days away from the wedding, and she was scheduled to attend Dartmouth in the fall. At least, that's what they told the outsiders. Everyone else knew what was really going to happen after the honeymoon: she was finally going to become one of them.
When he left, the wedding was obviously called off. Bella refused to attend any type of school, or go anywhere other than to different rooms in the house.
As she pulled herself up and out of the folding chair she had slept in, she looked at the calendar on her wall: February 17th. She was shocked. Was it really already February? It felt like she had just had a very awkward Christmas with Charlie days ago. She shivered as she realized how quickly time had passed, even though every minute without him felt like a punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her gasping for air. Time was playing tricks on her, and she didn't like it. It was unnerving.
Bella slipped on sweatpants and a t-shirt and traveled downstairs. Rummaging through the kitchen, she found nothing appetizing, and decided to skip breakfast. She knew that she was losing weight and becoming sickeningly thin, but she never had the desire to eat anymore. She only ever ate when Charlie was watching, so that he wouldn't get angry with her for refusing to eat.
A lot of things that Bella used to love were becoming things of the past. She hadn't ventured outside since he left--she was too afraid to leave the comfort of her house, her shelter. She hadn't read a single book, either, nor had she visited, called, or made effort to make contact with Jacob. Jacob had been the one who held her together the last time he had left; but this time, Bella wasn't sure if Jacob would ever consider being her friend again.
Last time, it got to a point where she almost gave in and almost gave herself up to Jacob. She had decided that she could be happy (or, as happy as she could possibly be) with Jacob, and that as long as he wanted her, she shouldn't be stingy and not let him have her. Jacob was her best friend, and one of the only people she could truly trust in this world.
But… after Edward came back, Bella dropped Jacob without warning and was totally and completely in love with Edward again. Jacob had lost, despite his efforts to prove to Bella she should have picked him. And after Jacob had received news of the wedding, he took off. Apparently, no one's heard from him since.
Other than having Edward back, the one thing Bella wanted more than anything was to at least have Jacob to hold her hand and make her laugh, just like they used to. She would kill to have her old friend back. Bella sat down on the couch in the living room and curled up into the fetal position, fighting off the tears that begged to be released.
But, like always, she lost to her emotions once again, and ended up becoming a sad, teary mess. Eventually, she fell asleep, and in her dreams she saw Jacob's face, his eyes angry and his nostrils flared, furious with her for picking Edward over him, and then wanting to crawl back to him when Edward left her once again.
Jacob had always been right, Bella realized. Maybe Jacob was the one for her. Maybe he had been telling the truth the whole time: that he was much more healthier for her than Edward was. At least, from where Bella was right now, it seemed like Jacob was completely correct.
When she awoke, her face was moist and she was shivering. She felt a breeze blow over her, and she shivered and pulled the blanket closer to her. But… what? She hadn't fallen asleep with a blanket. She sat up, and realized the door was standing wide open. It was dark outside, and suddenly, Bella was stricken with fear that someone had broken in.
She sighed out of relief when she heard Charlie's soft voice in the kitchen. She assumed he was on the phone, but he wasn't talking loud enough for her to hear what was being said.
Slowly, she sank back down into the couch, too tired and weak to close the door, and instead settling for burying herself deeper into the cushions and blanket.
After a few moments, Charlie walked into the living room, stopping when he was across from Bella and putting his hands on his hips.
"Bella," he said sternly. "Come on."
"What?" she asked, confused to what he was talking about. Her voice was hoarse from where she had been asleep all afternoon, and she cleared her throat.
"We're going to the hospital," Charlie announced plainly.
"Why?" Bella questioned, sitting up a bit, afraid of what was going on.
Before answering, Charlie stared straight into her eyes, his expression verging on angry. Suddenly, he sighed and turned away from her, his hard, composed front breaking down before her. "Bella, I can't deal with this any longer. You need help."