Broken Quotes For Her Novels & Stories

Chapter 11 "I'm a broken woman, Michael. There's nothing to like about me." Suzanne replied, look away. "Everyone is broken in their own way, Suzanne. You're not the first to be broken, and won't be the last." Michael replied casually. "If you're going to support me just because you're beginning to fall for me..."

Her breath trembles. “You… finding me.” A flicker. Memory. Pain. “I remember the way you looked at me,” she continues. “Like I wasn’t… broken.” “You’re not.” “I was.” “No.” “Yes,” she insists softly. “But you didn’t treat me like that.” Silence. Because that matters more than anything else. “You stayed,” she says. “I told you I would.” “You shouldn’t have.” “I did.” A faint, broken laugh escapes her. “You always do what you’re not supposed to.”

she said, then turned to the other door. I stared at her for a while, then turned to shut the door behind me. The lock was barely set in place before I turned to leave. “Noah,” she called again. I stopped. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were glistening, her lips were pressed together, her hands fiddling with the hem of her skirt. My headache increased. Why was everyone saying sorry? “For what?” “Leela. You broke up,” she said and my brows drew together.

Something that reached straight into my chest Into the bond The broken pieces of it I gasped. “You feel that?” she whispered. I couldn’t speak. Because I did. Every fracture. Every crack. Every piece of me that was still… incomplete. “You can’t save him,” she said softly. My vision blurred. “Because you’re still broken too.” “No…” I forced out, shaking my head. “You’re divided,” she continued. “Light and dark. Love and power. You hesitate.” Her grip tightened. “And hesitation…”

Because I finally understand, Every move I made. Every failure. Every illusion of coincidence. She was there. Watching. Measuring. Waiting. She didn’t come back to reclaim love. She came back to end me. And when the meeting adjourns, I am still seated. Broken. Hopeless. As she passes me, she doesn’t stop. She doesn't even for a pico second turn to look at me. She doesn’t acknowledge the man she once loved. Only the one she dismantled.

Not escape. Not survival. Me. She said red. And in that moment, I know— she didn’t break to give up. She broke to let me in. Now I’ll never let her leave.

she hissed and walked out, leaving me speechless. I stared at her retreating figure in disbelief, anger swirling in my chest, slowly I clenched my fist, and kicked the glass on the mini table, breaking it into a million pieces

I froze. She opened her eyes. Her eyes were darker than before, "I can't. We can't." She said and pushed me a little far. Confused— I looked at her, "Why?" Good moments don't last forever. Not with me. "I'm with Marcus. I can't do this to him." She looked down. I ran my hands through my hair frustratedly, "Yeah, I know." She looked at me thankfully. There was lightning. I looked up and now heard the ear-piercing sound.

My voice shook as I spat, "You even went after the only thing my mother left me. Yet, you're trying to accuse me of playing with your feelings? Do you even have those, you heartless bastard?" Preston's bravado vanished the second I brought the bracelet up. His eyes flickered away from mine. Although I could tell that he was unwilling to accept his defeat, he did not dare argue after meeting Nathaniel's cold gaze. Unfortunately, Mia had no idea when to stop. "I can't believe that the Whitmore heiress is walking around with a fake emerald bracelet," she sneered. "No wonder the Whitmores threw you out—" Before she could finish, I used every bit of strength I had to slap her across the face. 'Ho

But fractured. The Echo of Others At first, the awareness was exhilarating. She could feel Ronan’s steadiness like an anchor beneath her feet, his measured patience threading through her thoughts when she wavered. His pride—once distant and private—now brushed against her like the touch of warm sunlight on a cold morning. When he looked at her and offered thanks, she didn’t just hear his voice. She felt his sincerity—deep, resonant, unwavering. It moved through her as surely as her own heartbeat.