Bent But Not Broken Novels & Stories

then the barman ended everything by calling security on him. "hey... I..." "don't sweat it. keep the change." I interrupted him, dropping his money on the counter and left. ***** "Why!... I hate you." That was all I could yell throwing anything my hand could reach and breaking whatever was breakable close to me. I have never in my life felt such public humiliation, never felt rejection, never felt so broken before. I had no one to turn to or confide in. For weeks I drowned myself in alcohol, drugs and anything I wouldn't originally buy with my money. That was where I found consolence. I wouldn't pick any incoming calls, nor let anyone in on my life.

not fully, maybe not yet, but just enough. I ate another bite, slow and deliberate this time. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t broken, not completely, not today.

Not with him. "And now... I'm broken in ways that can't be fixed." The words carry the weight of every fear I've had since walking out of that doctor's office. That I'm damaged goods. That no one will want me now. That my body has betrayed me in the most fundamental way possible. He leans forward slightly, those pale eyes never leaving my face. When he speaks, his voice is rough, weighted with absolute conviction. "You are not broken." Four words. Simple. Absolute. They hit me like lightning, stealing my breath and sending heat through my chest.

In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.

He was in for the first heartbreak of his life. Normally Jayden Rutherford was the one who broke girl's hearts. At the age of ten, he'd gone to Ray asking for advice on how to handle the 'babes' as he'd put it then since they kept following him around. Maybe Ray could take credit for the part he played in making Jayden the player he was, but most of it was all him. That Rutherford gene was there alright. But with Marjorie? He was way in over his head. That girl would wrap him around his finger and have him doing her bidding in no time. It was hard to imagine that he'd only met her that morning. She was the kind of person who made you feel like you'd known her forever. He realized that Alexis

“How? Harrison has all the money and power in the world. We have nothing left. He can keep attacking forever. We can’t keep defending forever.” “So you outlast him.” “That’s not really an answer.” “Yes it is. You survive one more day than he thinks you can. You take one more hit than he expects you to handle. You win by not breaking when he’s sure you will.” “I’m already broken.” “You’re exhausted. There’s a difference. Exhaustion can be fixed, broken is forever. You’re not broken, Lena. You’re just really, really tired.” Quiet tears ran down my face. Not the desperate kind, just soft relief. “How did you get so wise?”

I looked at him through glassy eyes, using every cell in my body to keep the tears at bay. "Am I broken?" "...No." He shook his head, tightening his hold on my hand. "At least, I don't think you are, but if you are, then I guess I am too... Maybe we're all a little bit broken?" "Then how do I fix it?" "We can't. We just... Learn to live with it, and find peace and happiness with the remaining pieces... I don't think all broken things need to be fixed, baby sister."

“We’re not broken, Clinton. Just… bent.” He chuckled lightly. “Bent, huh?” I nodded. “And bent things can be straightened.” He squeezed my hand, and neither of us let go.

Now they were ash. When I finally calmed down enough to look at Colton — really look at him — I saw something I wasn’t ready for. Pain. Longing. A desperate ache that made my chest tighten. He wanted to be the one comforting me. He wanted to be the one I ran to. He wanted to be the one I trusted. But I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for him. I’m too broken for a mate bond. Too damaged for something that pure.

You might be hurt, you might be bruised, you might even bleed, but that doesn’t mean you have to fall apart completely. I’ve held onto those words ever since I started accepting her help. I’m not broken, and I refuse to be, no matter what has happened. My life has taken turns I never expected, and some of those turns were forced on me by other people’s actions, but that doesn’t mean everything is ruined. It just means I have to find a new way forward. And I do have something to hold onto now. Someone to look forward to. Someone who gives me a reason to keep going for as long as I still have breath.