And Every Now And Then I Fall Apart Novels & Stories

"Look at me, Aiden. Do you really need to ask that question?" "I don't know anymore," I sob softly, pulling back from his touch because the sheer weight of everything is crushing my chest from the inside out. "Everything is falling apart. My body is failing, the resistance is tearing itself to pieces, and every time I look at you, I'm terrified that I'm dragging you down into a grave you already crawled out of once."

“But—” “No buts,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but there was a tenderness in it that made something inside me soften. “You don’t need to apologize for how you feel. You don’t need to carry all of it. Not anymore.” I swallowed hard, trying to push back the wave of emotion threatening to consume me. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” I admitted. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I keep making mistakes, and I don’t know how to fix them.”

What if my knee gives out. What if I fall. What if I try and prove everyone right - that I'm finished, that I'm broken, that the girl who fell at Nationals is all I'll ever be now. What if the ice is the last remaining thing I had and I step onto it and it's gone too, dissolved like everything else I thought was solid. The questions circle like vultures.

But he would stay close. Even if she never knew. Maya stood at her window again that night. City lights flickered below, beautiful and indifferent. She thought of Ethan of the way he had looked at her through the café window. Not angry. Not accusing. Just worried. Her chest tightened. She whispered into the empty room, “I’m trying.” No one answered. But somewhere deep inside her, something fragile and fierce took root. The crack had spread. And soon, it would break something open.

The mate bond pulled at me with every step. Begging me to stop. To turn around. I didn't. I couldn't. Not tonight. Tonight, I had nothing left to give. Hours passed. I ended up in a quiet park several blocks away. The city noise faded into the background. I sat on a bench beneath a flickering streetlamp, pulling my knees to my chest. For the first time in years, I let myself fall apart. The tears came hard and fast. Everything I'd been holding together finally shattered.

he said softly His voice was calm steady grounding and that scared me because I didn’t want to depend on him again I didn’t want old habits to crawl back in and trap me But in that moment I also didn’t have the strength to pull away He moved in front of me and crouched down so I’d look at him “You don’t have to be strong right now It’s allowed to fall apart sometimes” “I’m not falling apart” “You are” he said “And it’s okay” Something in his eyes softened and I looked away quickly because I didn’t want to see it didn’t want to feel what it woke up inside me Not now Not when everything was already too much

Or… could this be something else? I didn’t know what to think. But one thing was clear—everything had just fallen apart.

At the same time, thanks to Ashton’s rough movements, it splashed all over my face and into my eyes. Then, remembering the baby inside me, I panicked. I tried to pull away, waving my hands to get him to stop. However, in my haste, I tripped on something behind me and fell hard onto the cold marble floor of the private room. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and I cradled my stomach, screaming in agony. Ashton’s face showed a flicker of concern as he reached out to help me, but he said dismissively, “It’s just a fall. You’ll be fine.”

The syrup. Why couldn’t I just keep it together for one goddamn second? Why did something so small, so stupid, make me fall apart? It’s been a year since I walked out on Mike, a whole year of rebuilding, rewiring, forcing myself to be okay. I thought I was handling it. I thought I was better. I was so, so wrong. My body and mind betrayed me in the worst possible way. I didn’t just fold; I shattered. A grown-ass woman crumpling like a paper bag because a bottle tipped over.

Pain… I know pain. I know how it feels, how it can twist and break you until you’re nothing but fragments of who you used to be. I’m shattered, and I can’t be fixed. Happiness is fleeting—whenever I think I’ve found it, it slips through my fingers, leaving me even more broken than before. Have you ever been in a place where you can’t cry anymore, even when you desperately needed to? When the tears just won’t come, no matter how much you want to let it all out?