Broken Promises The Movie นิยาย & เรื่องราว

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.

Burying my face in my arm, I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. “Let me help. Let me do something…please…” I shook my head. “Lo único que puedes hacer por mí es dejarme ir.” [The only thing you can do for me is to let me go.] His hand froze on my back, and I could feel it clench slightly. “No sé si puedo prometer eso.” [I don’t know if I can promise that.] Smiling and chuckling this time, I lifted my head up and looked back at the dancers twirling to the music.“No cumples las promesas de todos modos.” [You don’t keep promises anyways.]

“It is! I even recorded a video. It can prove Elizabeth is behind all this!” He took his phone out and showed it to Henry and Christopher. In the video, I was a broken mess as I screamed and begged for help. Every single part of my body was injured. “Henry, help me!” “Chris, please help me! It hurts so much!” I must have been delirious then. I was still pleading for their help. Then, a mocking and cruel voice came through the phone. “Naomi, tonight is the night. Christopher will be mine, and so will your brother! Hahaha!”

She grabbed my arm. “You promised.” “I know,” I stated as Dixon stood up as well. “You’re breaking your promise.” Just then, Scarlett stood up and stood in between Dixon and me. She put both her hands on my chest and proceeded to push me backward. “Okay, boys. That’s enough. As much as I can’t stand Dixon, you can’t break your promise to your girl. Promises are special.” I looked at Scarlett as if she’d grown an extra head. I found it hard to believe those words had just come out of her mouth. She continued to push me until my legs hit the couch.

I try to cut her off. "Nonsense, hum? Nonsense? I am true to my point." She pointed at me, "Fine! If you think of me as a bitch in my loved ones life then it is okay. But what you did do? Promised me and later on broke it. Woah!! I am so impressed. At least I am not like you who breaks other's promises. And not to mention the promise of life long is broked within few years." She tries to stop to tears. "I should applaud for you.... celebrate your success na!" She started clapping and I was too numb to say anything. "Like this," She was clapping and laughing like a mad. I didn't understand what she was saying. Which promise?

“You’re sitting here because you have seventeen days and no other options that don’t take something that you’re not yet willing to give. That’s not being ready.” She almost stood up. She almost left. Instead she stayed where she was, as still as could be, and said the one question that mattered. “If I say no, what happens.” “Nothing from me. The clock runs on.Tick-tock Your aunt keeps calling. The bank keeps counting down.” He let the silence stretch. “And in seventeen days the house is gone.” “And if I say yes.” “Then we talk about the terms. Properly. Not in the first ten minutes.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Dominique.” “I don’t think I should. You might get mad.” “I promise not to get mad. I want to try to fix whatever has you so sad.” “You can’t fix it. Only I can. But I made you a promise, and I broke it today. Not on purpose, but it happened nonetheless.” “The stone?” “Yes, the stone.” “Tell me what troubles you, Dominique. I won’t get mad. I was out for the day. You did not break your promise to me as I was not around.”

They sat like that for a long time hands linked, hearts breaking, weighing love against loyalty, desire against duty. The promise Luca had made to his dying wife hung over them like a shadow that refused to fade. At Mia’s apartment, Sofia had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. But even in her dreams, the words kept repeating. “He promised Mom…” “They chose each other…” “I’m done.” The night stretched on. Two locations. Two heartbreaks. One broken family trying and failing to hold itself together. And the promise hung over them all. Unforgiving. Unforgettable. Unfading.

I watched families and couples laughing and talking in the seats around me, their easy camaraderie a painful reminder of what I had lost. Every mile that passed was a physical ache, a pulling sensation that tugged me back toward him, back toward the boy who had broken my heart. I replayed our last conversation over and over in my mind, his desperate pleas, his raw, vulnerable promises. *“I promise I’ll fight for you. I promise I’ll fight for us.”* The words were a comforting balm on the raw, open wound of my heart, but they were also a heavy burden. A promise was a fragile thing, easily broken. And I wasn’t sure how many more pieces my heart could handle.

I had no idea. "I won't promise anything," I added, drawing a gasp from the audience. "The only thing I can guarantee is to serve the pack selflessly and do everything for the people; that's all." Promises are meant to be broken. As cliche as it may sound, it never misses. People who opted to give promises are most likely the ones who broke them: like a newly bloomed flower in the wilderness. They won't last long as they'll eventually wither in time, being carried away by the wind and turned back to dust.