Crying Hearts Novels & Stories

Hayley's heart was utterly shattered as she sobbed profusely, pouring out her heart. After Emily slammed the door in Leonardo's face, she re-entered the house, only to find Hayley in tears. She felt a twinge in her heart, realizing the depths of Hayley's heartbreak. She stood there, momentarily frozen as she watched Hayley cry out her heart like a four-year-old. It broke Emily to see Hayley like that. Ever since she came to Kleeton City, all Hayley ever did was cry all day. It was both heartbreaking and frustrating, to say the least. She wanted Hayley to find her strength; it was time for her to be resilient for her own sake. Enough was enough.

Agonizing cries echoed through the enclosed space, blending into a continuous chorus of mourning. Mothers clung tightly to their children. Their sobs were uncontrollable. The elderly sat in quiet devastation, some trembling as silent tears streamed down their lined faces. Others whispered desperate prayers under their breath, pleading for the safe return of loved ones whose names had not yet been spoken among the fallen. The children, too young to understand the full meaning of defeat, sensed the terror in the air. They cried because their mothers cried. They clung to skirts and arms, frightened by the heaviness in the atmosphere, confused by the adults’ broken voices and trembling hands.

Sienna's POV I sat on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest, scrolling aimlessly through the endless stream of hateful comments online. The words blurred together—"gold digger," "fraud," "washed-up actress." Each one felt like a dagger, sharp and precise, aimed straight at the fragile parts of me I’d been trying so hard to keep together. The tears came without warning, hot and relentless. I wiped at my face angrily, frustrated with myself for letting them get to me. I wasn’t supposed to care, but how could I not?

Fuck that, and fuck her. They would all pay for what’s been done to me. All I did was love, and this is how they repay me. I glanced down and noticed the back of the pack whore I was fucking. I had almost forgotten she was here, but whenever I called for them, it was always the same: shut your mouth, do not touch me, and keep your hideous face down. If they weren’t Taylor, at least I could pretend they were. Seeing and hearing them ruined the fantasy. They were only good for a temporary release, nothing more. I didn’t love them, or anyone for that matter. I had given my heart away, and it had been destroyed.

And she collapsed. No sound at first. Only tears. No sobbing, no gasping— just silent weeping, the kind that happens when there's no strength left to cry, and the tears fall because nothing's holding them back anymore. Then the sound came. Hoarse. Fractured. Rising from deep within her, as if weeks of pain, fear, humiliation, and helplessness were finally clawing their way out all at once. Lennox didn't speak. He just wrapped himself around her.

I killed them. I feel my chest tighten and the tears start falling again. When I cry there is a rawness to it, my pain is still an open wound. I place my hand on my heart and let all the wave of my emotions come out with the form of salty drops. As much as I try to hold it in, the pain comes out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream. I hit the iron bar and try to scream, but it seems like my voice melts along with my heart.

Like delicate raindrops clinging to the precipice, her tears teeter on the edge, threatening to spill over and carve a path down her cheeks. Within those sorrowful eyes, one can witness the struggle of a wounded soul. They are the windows to a heart burdened by the weight of grief, loss, or loneliness. The irises, once bright and vibrant, now seem dim, as if a shadow has enveloped their natural radiance. The sparkle that once danced within them has been replaced by a haunting emptiness.

I am not really sure. My heart feels a sudden pain, almost as if it is tearing at its seams. My right hand grabs a hold of my dress fabric which is closest to my heart, and I pull at it. It does not lessen the pain, but helps to put my emotions into actions. A ball of stone sits in my throat; I feel it as it blocks the passage to which my voice needs to escape. I try my hardest to scream, shout or even cry aloud but it prevents me too. I feel myself bottling up the excoriating pain. The tears stop falling but my tender heart still throbs with agony, grief and sorrow.

Richard responded coldly. "How could you do this to me? I trusted and loved you with all my heart." Sheila said as the tears which had been holding fell freely. Richard stood firm on seeing Sheila's emotions had ran high. "Please use the door or don't blame me for being rude, because I hate seeing tears" he said, unfazed. Sheila's voice was barely above a whisper as she pleaded with him. "I know you have a reason for this. Please stop this game and don't go through with this divorce of a thing, will you do that?."