All The Broken Pieces Summary Novels & Stories

Because based on his advices, he seems to be an expert in the problem I am facing. "I don't think you can win her back. Remember this Del Mundo, not everything that breaks is restored. Cianna's fragile, and you know that fragile should be handled with care because once it's broken, it can't be repaired. Glasses, vases and other fragile materials—ike this. . ." "What the h*ll!" I screamed after he dropped the glass he was holding. "Look at that glass, I broke it. Now, let me fix it." He knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of glass one by one.

I was the misfit that was such a pathetic loser that now I finally understood why on earth would anyone truly ever want to remind with me, they can like me, but he was right, everyone was, in the end they would run and I would be left alone. At last, I was the real definition of broken, pathetic, and loveless.... The phone slipped from my hand, it was an accident, so I tried to catch it with my shaking hand, but when I failed, and it shattered on the floor, and switches off, I looked at the broken pieces of the screen that was just like...me "You won" I felt the wetness on my cheeks, it was tears, and I had expected them sooner.

Life would continue. And somehow, through all the broken pieces, they were moving forward. One truth at a time.

That night, I locked myself in their guest bathroom and scrubbed my face until it burned — not because it was dirty, but because I felt wrong inside my own skin. Now, kneeling on my bedroom floor, I picked up the broken pieces of the mug — small shards, glittering like little truths. The handle had snapped clean off. And I thought: That’s what they did to me. Not in one cruel blow. But in a thousand small ways. A glance. A correction. A sigh. Each one a tiny fracture, until I believed I was already shattered. They would look at me — broken, scattered — and say, “Look what you did. You can’t fix this.”

“I had three children looking at me. Waiting for me to be strong.” He set his cup down on the table carefully. “I know I hurt you.” I turned back to face him. “Do you?” I asked. He swallowed. “Yes.” I walked closer again, stopping just a few steps away from him. “My heart was broken,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Not cracked. Not slightly damaged. Broken.” His jaw tightened. “Can you tell me something?” I continued. He nodded slowly. “If a glass breaks… if it shatters into pieces… can you put it back together and make it look the same again?”

I didn't ask for anything that wasn't rightfully mine, but I made damn sure to get everything that was. I glanced at Zachary beside me, he looked completely broken. Anxious. Defeated. Nothing like the confident man I'd married. "Ella, is this really it for us? No second chances?" "That's right. We're done." I studied his face, remembering how nervous he'd been when he first asked me out all those years ago. But I wasn't that starry-eyed girl anymore. A cracked mirror can never reflect a perfect image again. Zachary and I—our story had reached its final page.

I stopped and looked back, puzzled. Seeing the complete lack of recognition in my eyes, Sarah finally broke down, tears streaming down her face. I frowned, got into the car waiting by the curb, and left without hesitation. In the rearview mirror, Sarah's figure, crouched by the roadside sobbing, gradually shrank and disappeared.

My body aches, but nothing hurts as much as the emptiness growing inside my chest. I shuffle forward and kneel next to the frame, reaching for one of the wooden slats that once supported the mattress. I try to wedge it back into place, but the other side is cracked, and the bracket it belongs to has been ripped straight from the joint. I try again. It doesn’t fit. Nothing fits. He broke it beyond repair. My hands fall to my lap. I stare at the wreckage, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Then it all hits at once.

"Deanna, what did you just say? "Didn’t you say before that this child was the treasure your whole family had been waiting for? That I was a hero to your family? That you’d treat me well for the rest of your life? How can you turn on me like this?!" "That was before!" Deanna screamed, her voice breaking. "Look at the situation now! My company is being destroyed. Your family is collapsing. I’m not going down with you! We’re breaking up right now. Stop clinging to me!"

“It didn’t feel like fighting. It felt like… drowning.” Ghost’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s what it feels like when someone breaks you down long enough. You start believing the water’s stronger than you.” He stepped closer, but not too close. Just enough that his presence anchored her. “But you’re still here. You didn’t let it take you.” Her eyes burned, tears stinging. She dropped her gaze, whispering, “I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending I’m not broken.” “You are broken,” Ghost said simply. “We all are. Difference is whether you stay shattered, or let people help you put the pieces back.”