Breakup Fight Novels & Stories

My ego had gotten the better of me, and I wanted this Garrett fucker taken down a peg. It was finally time, and I was ready. If I killed this bitch tonight, I wouldn't lose any sleep. There was something like 200 people at this fight, it was insane. I drowned it all out once I saw him. The bell hit and we both went at each other hard, punching wildly like neither of us had training, it was a brawl. I'd get his eye, he'd get my stomach. It got too harsh even for the ref and we got broken up a dozen times in five minutes. I needed to wear him down so I started to push for him to dance and get him tired, my favorite thing.

"Let's not call it a breakup. Let's call it a minor major misunderstanding, like you know the way couples fight and they divorce each other by grieving and not talking to each other for two days and then they're back and giving each other more chances because they love each other and want to be better for each other? Yeah let it be something like that." He let out a chuckle. "Firstly," He said, taking her hand closer to his. "You are implying that we are like an old married couple and I don't actually dislike the sound of that, if you know what I mean?" He shot her a wink. She rolled her eyes but let out a little laugh anyways. "And yes, I understand. This week has been shit, let's not ever

I felt like I had hit a statue, and my hand hurt from the impact. “I’m fine. I was the one being violent here,” I softly told Hayden. The fierce look on my face would be the last thing Zach remembered of me. He was in a worse situation than me because he could see me with one eye. Hayden supported me as I walked out of the office. If I did not hurry, those two would end up fighting again. I was satisfied with how messy and intense our breakup was. We did not need to separate peacefully. The messier it was, the less likely we would want to think about each other.

"Jaime, last night... You broke me first." ------The End-------

Then she yanked her arm back and said, low enough that only I could hear: “You really want to do this here.” “Yes,” I said. Out loud. “Actually.” I took the beanie out of her other hand. She grabbed for it back. I don’t remember deciding to scream. I just did. And then I lunged. What followed was not clean or quiet or anything like the confrontation I’d been playing out in my head since September. Her nails caught my cheek, a fast bright sting. My hand found a fistful of her hair and I pulled with everything I had, all of it, all the months of it, and Tahni Haughton screamed.

“She my replacement?” It was so stupid. So unbearably stupid and so him that I felt my knees buckle. “God, it’s really you,” I choked, voice cracking. And then I hit him. My fists landed against his chest again and again — once, twice, three, four — each blow fueled by years of grief and rage and love that had nowhere to go. Tears blurred my vision until I couldn’t see his face clearly. My punches grew weaker, collapsing into sobs, until at last I couldn’t lift my hands to hit him anymore.

“Nick. Oh, my God.” “I started to think: what if I’d been able to fight back? I mean, I was big and tough – I had played football all through high school and I was in great shape. But I had no idea how to fight… I had never even really punched anybody in my life. If I had learned, would Shelley still be alive? I was sure she would be.” “Nick.” Mia was horrified. “Nick, you have no way of knowing that.”

“She’s mine, and I’m not letting you take her from me.” Max’s fist flew through the air, connecting with Adrian’s jaw in a sharp, painful blow. Adrian staggered back, more out of shock than pain, his face twisting with anger. “That’s for breaking her heart,” Max spat, his voice shaking with fury. Adrian wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes now filled with rage. He lunged at Max, pushing him against the table, knocking over drinks. The two men were locked in a brutal struggle now, punches flying, their fight spilling into the café. Chairs crashed to the floor, and patrons gasped and scrambled out of the way.

And I just know that this man will ruin me He'll take away what's left of my sanity But I won't go down without a fight

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're mine. Wife. Mate. You don't get to shut me out like this." I bit back a snarl. The crowd had swelled—faces pressed closer, phones raised, screens glinting like shards of mirror. Filming. Of course they were filming. I'd learned to read that hunger years ago: people loved a broken thing, especially when it fought back. Or didn't. Fighting had drained me, once. Now it just felt… pointless. But Lucas and Darren? They'd tear each other apart if I let them.