I'm Ready To Be Hurt Again Novels & Stories

“I…I’m not ready to—“ “You’re not ready to forgive me. I know. I really messed up. I—“ “I’m not ready to let this go.” My words stopped him. Stopped me, too. I blinked, my eyes stinging. Meeting his gaze, I continued. “I don’t want to walk out that door and never see you again. But…but I can’t go through hurt like that, Jack. I can’t—” Jack closed the distance between us, taking my hands in his. “You won’t. I promise you, I won’t hurt you like that again. I—“

God, I can't bear him getting hurt. ***

And the woman who would absolutely be delighted to break me again. I wasn't sure I was ready. I wasn't sure I would ever be ready to face her again.

he replies I let out a small breath But there is no comfort in it Because I know one thing now It has seen everything My past My pain My breaking point And next time It won’t just watch It will use it And I don’t know If I’ll be ready when it does

I felt so guilty, knowing that she might be so sad wherever she was, seeing that I was ready to replace her with someone else. Replace her?? No fucking way will I do that. Damn it!! What was I thinking? A restless uneasy feeling gnawed at me, like an itch that refused to go away. I sighed, burying my head in my palm. A new wave of immense pain crushed my insides, forcing me to release a groan. They say old wounds take time to heal and leave faint scars behind but mine was still fresh as if it had been yesterday.

I wanted to live. "Marcus," I said quietly. "I am not going to push you away anymore. I am not going to retreat into myself. I am done with that." "I know." "I mean it. For the first time in my life, I am not afraid of what comes next. I am not afraid of losing. I am not afraid of being hurt. I am just ready. Ready to end this. Ready to build something new." "So am I."

But I never told you what the practitioner diagnosed. Ashton's eyes reddened. "The damage they caused to you left your body so severely weakened that you lost 20 years of your life expectancy. There's no way to have a full recovery. "Knowing that you might leave me years earlier than you should have, I just couldn't forgive them!" Hearing the emotion in his voice, I held his hand with an aching heart. "Meeting you is the single luckiest thing that's ever happened to me. We should just focus on the present and make every day count, Ashton."

he muttered. “I know,” I replied softly. “All right. So you didn’t have to poke at it.” “Why?” I asked, my voice breaking. “So we could go through all this again? So I could get hurt all over again?” I sighed, my eyes burning. “Like I said, I came here to heal. I followed you to recover, and that—all this—it wasn’t part of it. You might want what we lost back, but I don’t. Rekindling it wouldn’t solve anything. It would only lead to one thing—me getting hurt again. And I don’t want that. I’m tired of getting hurt.”

“You went behind my back. How could you do that? I didn’t mean to hurt him. God, I would never hurt him. I love him. But he was so angry, so hurt, and I couldn’t get through to him. He wouldn’t listen. He looked at me like I’d betrayed him, like I’d done the one thing he could never forgive. My sobs grow louder. I curl into myself, trying to muffle the sound. I hate this feeling, the helplessness, the guilt. It’s choking me, and I don’t know how to stop it. I want him back. I want him to come back and tell me it’s okay, that we’ll work through this. That he understands why I did what I did. Please come back.

They were burdens forced upon me by fate, weights I would gladly shed. As I stood there, my mind flickered to the memories I couldn’t seem to erase. Every hurt, every lie, every broken promise—they haunted me, gnawed at my soul like shadows in the dark. But I wouldn’t let that show. I wouldn’t wear my heart on my sleeve. Not anymore. I’d been through enough. I’d been shattered, scarred, and remade by pain. No more. I was done with vulnerability, done letting others think they could break me.