Memories Of A Broken Heart Novel Novels & Stories

“Protect her? You destroyed her. You left her when she needed you. And now? Now you sit here, drinking pity like it’s champagne.” Ethan moved back a little. “You think I don’t know that? Every night, every morning, I wake up with her name in my head and the memory of her face the night I broke her heart. I can’t breathe without feeling the weight of what I did.” His voice cracked despite his effort to hold it steady. “I let her go because I thought I was saving her from me, from the chaos I was drowning in. But all I did was burn her to the ground.”

A month ago, at the Blackrock pack's victory celebration for annexing the Silvermoon pack, Damian had been drunk out of his mind. He had kicked open my door, a wild beast out of control, pressing me into the bed, tearing at my clothes. That wasn't love. It was a declaration of ownership, a conquest. The next morning, he woke up with no memory of what had happened. The memory chilled me to the bone, and I wavered. But the promise of our Blood Moon mating—the only lifeline I could cling to before drowning—kept me afloat. I told myself it had been an accident. He was drunk, not himself, and I would forgive him.

everything about her was pressing on my nerves, which were already strained since I saw that corpse in the dark alley. ​I contemplated her haggard face with a bitter regret gnawing at my chest. I remembered the strong, radiant girl—the girl I loved in the past.. how painful and pitiful it is to see her now turned into mere broken memories, the ruins of a woman living on fear and trembling.

~~~~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~~~~ Coming soon: Beautiful and Healed Synopsis: (Sequel of Broken and Pregnant) After being locked in jail for five years, Lucy Mason was finally free. Her life inside the prison wasn't easy. Thanks to her new inmate friend Cassandra. She was the one who helps her battle depression and despair. They got out of prison together and it's game time for those who hurt and betrayed her when she was Lucy Mason. She's back with a new name Greta Stone, the wife of a rich businessman Gale Stone who happened to be Kent's stepbrother.

We knew he didn’t, we knew the person that went back to Sarah’s house wasn’t Alessio. I had missed him this last year, I had missed being with him and Beatrice, the three of us had something solid, unbreakable. Until we had broken it, he and I. Now, it was shattered on the ground, the shards tearing into our flesh until there was nothing but a bloody, shredded mess of flesh left for us to live in. The pain was unbearable at times, the memories worse. They were the kind of memories that came to mind at the worst possible moments, the moments when I needed to focus and instead I was caught in the recesses of my mind, my thoughts on a time when I was happy. Beatrice was there with me, she was a

Vladimier murmured. Closing my eyes, I braced myself as the rest of my memories slammed into me. From the good to the bad, I remembered it all. My mother's abuse, my moving away to be on my own, the struggle of living alone and going to school to get a degree—even past loves and broken hearts appeared, sending piercing needles into my chest that disappeared as quickly as they appeared. And when the last few memories returned, they were of my job and how I died. By the time I opened my eyes again, sweat was pouring down my skin, and my heart was beating wildly in my chest. In front of me, Vladimier watched, waiting to see my reaction.

The third one, which is about Malvika, would be published after Broken Hearts. Don't forget to vote and leave positive reviews. Also, do well to share this book with your friends and the people you know. Thanks for reading. Xoxo❤️

Though, a thousand of trembling hearts were beating restlessly in close proximity within this heaving ancient mall, and many of them, after all, would be aching in agony but his heartache was far worse than theirs. Considering all of the things, whether all of the good or the bad, that happened in his past, he was impotently reduced into nothing but an incapacitated marionette made out of fragile skins and broken bones with a deplorable heart from stitches of mismatched parts from varying textiles that were scraped out from the anguishing memories of all of his past lovers. Strange chromaticities of varying lights shone in between the crevices crisscrossing their own way inside his broken an