Novel & Cerita Broken Home

“Just leave.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Malcolm’s jaw clenched when he heard the door close. Today was one of the worst days he had in a while both at work and at home . First, it was the issue of his investors taking their sweet time to sign the contract, then, when he came home, he found out that his kids were nowhere in sight. Afterwards, the self-absorbed, yet hot, nanny he employed, waltzed in, taking about what his kids liked and what they didn’t. How would she know what they liked? She couldn’t even look after them without them disappearing under her watch. How would he know?

His body shook as he broke down crying. He hurt… He hurt everywhere. His back, his stomach, his ass and his insides. His heart was broken. He felt disgusting and used. ‘Thaddeus will never want me now.’ Aiden thought. Aiden knows Thaddeus will never want him after feeling what just happened to him. He's going to be disgusted knowing that another man touched him. Knowing that another man's cock was just inside him. Knowing that another man just came inside him. He's dirty, disgusting, and tainted. He's used, and Thaddeus is going to be repulsed by him.

Axen looked at me without a speck of emotion on his face and said. "I accept. Our bond is broken with the blessing of the Goddess.' Axen tried and failed to hold back another howl. In the end he let loose a loud heart breaking cry that felt like a dagger to my heart, then fell back hitting the hard Chapel floor with a thud.

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.

And mixed up with all of this was a murder case, a drive-by shooting (with a rubber bullet, but a shooting nonetheless), a baby on the way, and a few broken hearts. She hadn't even noticed that her head had begun to hurt again, and she wanted to go lay down, but she didn't want to leave the broken glass lying all over the floor. So she grabbed a broom and began to sweep it up. The broken fragments scraped the wooden floor, and Charlotte couldn't help but think that she was metaphorically also picking up the pieces of her fragmented life.

Broken in small ways. Mira with her abandonment issues. Lyanna with her identity crisis. Adrian with his nightmares. Kiera with her anxiety. We failed them. Despite our best efforts. Despite everything. "Stop blaming yourself," Damon says later. "They're alive. Loved. Safe. That's what matters." "They're traumatized. That matters too." "So are we. We're all broken. But we're broken together. That counts for something." "Does it?" "It has to." The foundation is thriving. Helping hundreds of people with broken bonds. Damaged connections. Lost mates.

The house was a total mess. It was scattered almost beyond repair; vases were broken, an overturned lamp lay on the floor, its shade askew, and the bulb shattered. The artworks that were hung on her wall were all on the floor, either torn or broken. As she and Julie made their way further into the house, broken glasses scrunched under her feet. Her fashion magazines were strewn haphazardly across the couch cushions, some crumpled beyond recognition. Megan paused and took a look around her whole house. Her former treasure. How could Brandon do this to her? Her television did not go free, it was broken with something that seemed like a baseball bat.

"I don't know. Part of me wants to hide in this house forever. Part of me wants to pretend none of this ever happened and go back to my life. And part of me wants to burn everything down and start over somewhere new." He sat beside me on the swing. Hope reached for my coffee, and I moved it out of her reach. "Which part is winning?" he asked. "The part that wants to go back to work. The part that wants to prove that Charles Whitmore didn't break me." "He didn't. You're not broken." "I feel broken. I feel like someone took me apart and put me back together wrong." Aiden was quiet for a moment. "Then we find a way to fix it. Together. That's what we do."

"Don't contact me anymore, Hubert. You're right. Your family wanted you to stay in Jethroville, so just stay put there. "As for my parents, since they think I have a bright future ahead, they can go ahead and keep thinking that. "I don't need parents, and I don't need that so-called family. From the moment I sold the apartment, Kathleen Holloway became an orphan. "Don't text me again." I tapped the send button, then blocked that number and powered off my phone. The sunlight outside the window was just right, filtering through the leaves and scattering patches of light across the room. I opened the textbook on my desk and turned my attention to it. This time, I was the one abandoning them.

I whisper. I hear something shatter in the background and wonder what he's broken. I decorated our house, painstakingly chose all of the beautiful, expensive furnishings. Lovely knickknacks that have very little use, but that I value anyway because I grew up destitute, in a home where all our money had to go to food and shelter. I hadn't intended that I would ever see my house again, but the thought of my husband breaking up the contents of our home still hurts. Poetic, I suppose, since I'm breaking up his family. "Then we have nothing else to say to each other," he tells me after bringing himself back under control.