Ne Heartbreak Novels & Stories

With my fists wrapped in tape wraps, I went to work on the punching bag, hitting and grunting, hoping that I could work out all my frustration and the calories before Dad returned. ** I turned my headset on and scrolled through my phone for the perfect playlist. Contrary to everything that happened in school earlier, my disappointment with Theo, Kendall’s threat and Leo and Lea’s … well, those two are just plain weird, I wasn’t in the mood to listen to something dark, so I pulled up my Harry Styles playlist and tapped play. Look, don’t call me cheesy. I love Harry Styles, and if you find that weird, then so be it.

For a second I could almost hear Jeremy’s voice in it. Or maybe it was just my head playing tricks. I laughed again, but it was nothing like joy It felt as if my heart had being smashed again with glasses Because suddenly the realization hit me. This was exactly how Hunter used to break. Late at night. Alone. Thinking about someone he loved so much it had carved holes inside him. Back then I didn’t understand. Back then I thought heartbreak meant crying into pillows and listening to sad songs. Now I knew better. Heartbreak felt like your bones were being slowly crushed from the inside.

I deepened the kiss, molding my mouth to his, praying he would just let the anger go and give in to the fire. In truth, I was terrified. My heart was lurching in my chest like a dying bird. If he pushed me away this time, if he rejected me while I was this vulnerable, I knew I would truly break. The fragments of Ophelia Vitale would never be put back together again. But he didn't push me away.

"I'm sorry. I know that what I did was wrong. Can't we go back to how we used to be back then?" I looked at her and lightly shook my head. "We can never go back, Queenie Blackrose," I replied. "From the moment you posted the first photo of you and him on your Instagram account and chose to lie to me, we could never, ever go back to the past again." Misty sighed and said, "Nessie, know that trust, once broken, can never be put back together again."

Of all places. Then the blurry flashes of last night came back. A bar, too much whiskey, and a girl whose name I never cared to learn. Her perfume had been heavy, clinging to my shirt, her laugh loud enough to drown out the noise in my head. A mistake, sure, but one I’d chosen. One I could shrug off, because sometimes you need to sink low just to breathe.

“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.”

he uttered in an extremely gentle voice, just like he would when we first got together. Sorrow filled my heart. I was feeling sorrowful over the humiliation I endured in the private room that day. I was sorrowful over the times I was disrespected, and over how I wasn't able to win him over even after loving him for nine years. I was sorrowful over the fact that I heard him threaten to send a video of me to my newlywed husband. Yet, I felt far less of a burden than when my sincere feelings were completely neglected. The heavens might not put the person who failed to appreciate someone else's sincerity through physical punishment, but they would make him lose his partner forever.

I used to have a playful, sweet son, Shawn Sorensen. But now, his skin looked pale and puffy from being underwater for too long. The blood on the severed half of his hand had dried up a long time ago, but it would never heal. People kept telling me to cry and get my pain out, but I didn't. I quietly handled everything for Shawn before placing him in the cold coffin. That was when I got a call from Zach Sorensen.

“Goodnight, Em.” As I walked away, I felt his gaze on me. My heart was a mess of guilt and gratitude, love and confusion. And for the first time, I wondered if Alex wasn’t the only one I was breaking.

Selina stood before Nestor, her hand raised, looking up at him. The golden mask cast a cold light under the lamp, but the dark eyes beneath it, like an unmeltable ink pool, flowed with endless sadness. Their eyes met; neither spoke. "Nestor, I'm willing to be your friend," Selina said softly. Nestor's expression turned complex. "They say people who have loved each other can't be friends after they break up." Selina, whose mood had been dampened by Nestor's emotions, suddenly laughed.