Novel & Cerita Letters From A Broken Heart

​Her voice came through the receiver trembling, cracked and broken, as though she were struggling to breathe amidst a stifled, desperate sob: — "Adrian... I need you." ​Adrian froze dead in his tracks, the lit cigarette slipping from his fingers to hit the cold floor, completely ignored. That single word hit his ears like an electric shock, instantly dissolving his cold facade and the remaining haze of alcohol. He hadn't heard that word from her in years, and the sheer brokenness in her tone made his heart contract violently. ​The forced calm vanished entirely from his voice, replaced by a sharp panic and a raw desperation he could no longer hide:

Jordan said, causing everyone to laugh, as Brooklyn went ahead to switch off the lights. Just then, the movie began, and Micheal wrapped his arm on my shoulder as my back rested on his body. Ha. I hope this moment is going to last forever and ever. I never want this peace to end. … Author Tina Nwuba: “And this is it, readers. We have come to the end of, “Don't Break My Heart”. Don't forget to check out my other books. And thanks for all your support”.

Since the wedding plans started, my life felt like being struck by many waves—dress tests, talks with the wedding planner, family asks, and the rush of feelings each time I saw the ring on my finger. At times, I felt like I was moving on the side of a rock—joyful, but scared; sure, yet uneasy. That night, I went into my room and opened the box of memories-old photos, concert tickets we once went to together and a letter Dylan wrote when we broke up. I read it again; his familiar slanted handwriting is still intact. Carissa if I ever get another try, I’ll pay more attention, hurt less and not go without a cause. But if that day doesn’t arrive, I’ll still be grateful that I loved you so much o

I want to hurt him with the truth the way he hurt me with silence. But then—other nights—I break. I write letters with shaking hands and wet cheeks. Letters that say, I miss you. Letters that beg, Why? Letters that don’t care about pride or betrayal or justice. Just letters from someone who loved too hard and lost too much. I fold those ones neatly. Press them to my lips like prayers. Then I tear them up too. I don’t send any of them. Because I don’t know which truth I’d be sending—the angry one, or the one that still aches for him. And maybe that’s the worst part of all this: I still don’t know which version of me is real.

Tears escaped my eyes as thoughts of us flooded my head and the the thought of us ever being officially TOGETHER vanished. I'm an emotional wreck. I don't give two fucks about anyone or anything and I haven't eaten in weeks. Maybe I'm more miserable here than I was there. Who cares? Not me. I seriously don't care about anything anymore. I don't want anything to do with anyone. But the worst part is, I go back to school for the first time since I left tomorrow. Great. Ella's P.O.V Jack looked so sad and venerable yet so god damn fuckable. And since he's going on a fucking spree minds well get him while I can.

Laura eagerly asks "Hey, you wanna watch a movie with us?" "No, I’m busy," I respond "Come on, it will be fun." I am about to speak when Laura races me to it saying "Don’t make me start with the begging." Sighing I give in and say "I will be out in a minute." She gives me a thumbs-up before heading out and closing the door behind me. I go back to reading the letter, and even though I know all the words, it feels different every time. Each word breaks my heart and makes it pounder. I can't imagine how Rachel feels about me now. She probably hates me, but I don't blame her. It’s my fault—I broke the heart that once loved me.

He even picked up the letter that he wanted her to read! She looked at his eager eyes and thought over it if he was to read these letters ——she shivered, he was right. If he read these letters then she would really be humiliated even more. Levy worked up her courage and then turned to the letter that he was talking about and then she shuffled the letter such that it was sitting at the top of the stack. When she was young, like every heartbroken girl whose mate was snatched from her, she started writing her heart on letters that were never delivered and poured her heart out such that she wouldn’t lose her mind because of the stress.

[Letter from Rose to Lucius] My Dearest Lucius, I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear it may bring you discomfort and pain. It pains me deeply to write these words, but I cannot continue to suffer in silence, burdened by the weight of my unspoken emotions. I find myself at a loss for words, struggling to articulate the depth of the anguish that now consumes me. Each passing moment feels like an eternity, a relentless reminder of the shattered dreams and broken promises that now lie scattered at my feet.

And in the trash can beside his chair, pieces of what looked like letterhead. I knelt and gathered the pieces, my journalist instincts taking over as I pieced them together on his desk like a puzzle. It was a letter. In Alexandro's careful handwriting, dated three weeks ago when everything between us was still broken glass and careful words. {Lauren... I don't know how to fix what I've broken between us. I don't know how to love someone without trying to control every variable that might hurt them. But I know that losing you would destroy me in ways I'm not brave enough to imagine.