Im Broken Novels & Stories

Something inside me broke. The world shattered and fell silent.

Cracked in my hand. —

POV JACK COLE The morning light felt all wrong. It was the kind of day that feels heavy even before you open your eyes. Something was off. I could feel it in my bones, like a low, quiet hum of trouble. A bad feeling. But I couldn't name it. I just couldn't put my finger on what the problem was. Trying to shake off the weird feeling, I pushed myself out of bed. My body felt stiff and old. Today was supposed to be a big day. My first proper day back at real work since… well, since the whole world saw me fall apart on live television. My meltdown.

“I had three children looking at me. Waiting for me to be strong.” He set his cup down on the table carefully. “I know I hurt you.” I turned back to face him. “Do you?” I asked. He swallowed. “Yes.” I walked closer again, stopping just a few steps away from him. “My heart was broken,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Not cracked. Not slightly damaged. Broken.” His jaw tightened. “Can you tell me something?” I continued. He nodded slowly. “If a glass breaks… if it shatters into pieces… can you put it back together and make it look the same again?”

“I didn’t know it was possible to love this much. It makes everything feel louder, brighter, and scarier too.” She wraps her arms around me and holds on tight. “That’s what love does. It opens you up. Makes you brave and vulnerable all at once. But I’d rather you feel all of this than walk through life numb.” “I used to think I was broken,” I whisper. “Before I met them. Before I understood what I was. I always felt I was different, that I didn’t really fit. But now… now I feel more whole than I ever have.” Mum presses a kiss to my head. “You were never broken. You just hadn’t found the ones who could see all your pieces and love you harder because of them.”

And then, barely audible, breaking like glass, "Much less a broken one."

And just like that, a curse cracked. Maybe not broken yet—but cracked.

Weighted. Sure thing, there was no easy way to break somebody’s heart…

He would have managed, of course, because she was a friend, but it would have been exhausting. “Okay, we’ve talked about my broken fingers now,” he said and took a quick swig from his beer. “What about your broken heart? Or did you break his?” She blinked at the unusual introduction but seemed okay with it. “No…” she slowly said while stirring around in her soup. “He broke mine.” She ate a spoonful, before she continued. ”It’s a bit complicated. Because actually–” Suddenly her voice failed her and she turned away, blinking frantically to chase away tears.

Because based on his advices, he seems to be an expert in the problem I am facing. "I don't think you can win her back. Remember this Del Mundo, not everything that breaks is restored. Cianna's fragile, and you know that fragile should be handled with care because once it's broken, it can't be repaired. Glasses, vases and other fragile materials—ike this. . ." "What the h*ll!" I screamed after he dropped the glass he was holding. "Look at that glass, I broke it. Now, let me fix it." He knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of glass one by one.