Breaking Her Novels & Stories

Already believing her. And then—she crouched beside me. One delicate, perfectly manicured foot stepped right onto a jagged shard of the music box. She twisted her foot. Hard. Then, in a voice only I could hear, she whispered— “Yeah, I broke it. So what?” Rage exploded through my veins. Before I even realized what I was doing, I pushed her. Or at least, I tried to. Grace didn’t even wait for my hands to touch her. She threw herself backward, flinging her body dramatically onto the floor, her injured foot slamming straight into the corner of the nightstand.

He had broken her to the core. To her it was so hard to be mended, when a bottle of wine falls to the floor shattering in to tiny pieces, the glasses can't be put together and even if you managed to collect the wine from there; it will be hard to drink it. She was that glass shattered beyond repair.

“I’m wondering who forced my fearless girl into becoming this unhappy woman I see today.” My throat tightened painfully. I looked away before he could see the tears threatening my eyes again. “Leave me alone,” I said finally, my voice cracking slightly. “I don’t love you anymore.” For a second nothing happened. Romane simply stared at me. Expressionless. Unreadable. Then suddenly— The car slowed. My breath caught as it smoothly pulled over to the side of the road before coming to a complete stop. A soft click echoed inside the silent cabin. The door beside me unlocked automatically.

He would have managed, of course, because she was a friend, but it would have been exhausting. “Okay, we’ve talked about my broken fingers now,” he said and took a quick swig from his beer. “What about your broken heart? Or did you break his?” She blinked at the unusual introduction but seemed okay with it. “No…” she slowly said while stirring around in her soup. “He broke mine.” She ate a spoonful, before she continued. ”It’s a bit complicated. Because actually–” Suddenly her voice failed her and she turned away, blinking frantically to chase away tears.

Meanwhile, all she received were brutal verbal lashings. As for me, I no longer felt anything. I could only chalk it up to this being her own doing. Vivian, on the other hand, had to be regretting the choices she made. If she hadn't broken off our engagement, Saddler Group would've thrived with the support of Griffith Corporation. She'd be enjoying her time at a fancy retreat for new moms and treated like the precious part of our family she was meant to be. She knew that. But this was the path she had chosen.

She had a strength to her that made the process all the more satisfying. Breaking her wasn’t easy, but that made it all the more rewarding. When she finally surrendered, when she finally accepted that I was her only constant in this fractured reality, it would be glorious.

she went on, her voice cracking into pieces, “looking at the man who killed her! I wouldn’t have to… to live with you! To be tied to you!” Her knees seemed to weaken, her body swaying slightly under the weight of her own emotions. “Or worse…” she whispered, her voice barely audible now. “To be mated to you.” That was the one that did it. Not the accusations. Not the anger. That. Something inside me shattered so completely I wasn’t sure it could ever be put back together. She broke. Right in front of me. Her body folded in on itself as sobs tore through her, uncontrollable, violent. The file slipped from her hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud, papers scattering across the ground…but sh

But she didn’t move immediately. “You’re shaking,” she murmured. “So are you.” “I’m not.” I slid my hand up her arm slowly. She went still. “Your pulse says otherwise.” For the first time, something cracked in her composure. “Move away,” she said. “Make me.” Silence.

In the end, I told myself it was wrong to be petty toward a grieving widow, so I was the one who gave in and apologized. Later, when Ryan wanted to put his ring back on, he couldn't find it anywhere. Luckily, I still had the original design sketches. Since my own ring was getting worn out, I decided to order a brand-new set, identical to the first. But before the rings even arrived, our bond had already shattered. I instinctively rubbed the faint pale mark where my ring used to sit. My old band was still sitting on that table back at the Pack House. "I don't want them. Even if they're brand new and identical, our bond is fractured. There's no going back."

Snow would cover the streets. "They're going to hurt you," Liam said, coming up behind her. He didn't touch her. He sensed her fragility. "On the stand. They're going to try to break you." "I know," Aurora said. She looked at her reflection in the glass. She looked tired. But she didn't look empty. "But they forgot one thing," she whispered. "What?" "I've already been broken," she said. "And I put myself back together. They can't break what's already been welded."