Broken Homes Quotes Novels & Stories

The dinner plate was overturned and crashed onto the floor with a piercing noise. Patrick’s hands trembled uncontrollably, his phone nearly slipping from his grasp. He roared in fury, "What the hell are you talking about? What rental apartment? Are you messing with me? Do you have a death wish?"

The tip of my nose. "There is not a single iota of you that is unlovable. You draw people towards you as if you were the sunshine. You cast light wherever you go. If you were truly broken, truly damaged, you wouldn't be trying to live a life baking cupcakes to give joy to others. You would wither away in the dark, spread hate and anguish with every exhale. I know what broken looks like. I grew up with it. Stared it in the face. Killed it."

It felt so heavy, and crushing. People were going to expect us to rebuild, to somehow manage and put all of this back together. But really how do you start rebuilding an entire thing that’s been completely destroyed? How do we fix what was broken. “We definitely have to rebuild,” I said again, though the words felt hollow in my mouth. Rebuild what, exactly? The kingdom was shattered, the people broken and our hearts were broken . They will never be the same again.

And in the silence of the empty house, I vaguely sense that something broke tonight. Something I won't be able to repair on my own. -

"Don't call it home. It was never my home. It was just a house where I was living." "Which is your home then?" "You destroyed my home." She said pointing her finger at me. "What?" "Even though it's a cafe, why did you break it? Do you know how bad I felt when I saw that cafe?" "I thought You were happy." "Yeah, I was. To see many people in that place and not to destroy my place. Do you know how much I got hurt when I saw that cafe? Have you felt how it is to see your one and only comfort place being destroyed in front of your eyes?"

Something else. Something I don’t have a name for yet. Something I’m not ready to name. But for now… Breakfast is enough.

“Just say what’s on your mind.” I hesitated, then sighed. “I feel... broken,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Like there’s nothing left of me to give. Ryder and Jaxon, what they did, it’s like they took pieces of me and left me hollow.” Caden’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. “You’re not broken, Amara,” he said firmly. “They might have hurt you, but they didn’t destroy you. You’re stronger than you think.”

My dad always used to say "Every morning brings a happy start in people's life." But that's definitely not what happened to me this morning. I woke up today thinking that it would be better than yesterday and believing in what my dad said... But I ended up losing everything I ever had.

"For what? For Victoria's press conference this afternoon? For whatever new lies she's going to tell about me?" "For yourself. For the boys. For getting through this." I set down my spoon. "What if I can't get through this? What if this is the thing that finally breaks me?" "It won't." "How do you know?" "Because you've survived worse. You survived giving up Alexander. You survived almost dying in that warehouse. You survived being shot. You're the strongest person I know." "I don't feel strong. I feel broken." "Broken things can be repaired." "Not always. Sometimes they're too shattered. Too many pieces to put back together."

"Do you understand what I am saying? Not in the same building. Not under the same roof. I cannot do sixty days of that while I am already this broken — I will not survive it." "You are the strongest person I know," she said simply. "And you are also about to be homeless in forty-eight hours. Sometimes survival looks like accepting the option you did not want." I stood at her window and stared out at the street below and said nothing for a long time. Then I picked up my phone.