Pieces Of Her Heart Novels & Stories

I could feel it, like a star imploding in my heart. My chest tightened so violently I couldn’t breathe. My lungs forgot how to work. My throat burned with the effort of holding back a scream that never came. My hands were fists but numb. My vision blurred but I refused to let the tears fall, because if they did, I’d never stop. My heart… my heart was shattering into something unrecognizable. A million pieces. No, more. Tiny fragments of something that used to be alive inside me.

Emphasis on the 'her'. But everything that has happened, the pain, sorrow, deaths, anger and all, has made her who she is today, fearless but... (Insecure) she doesn't have a heart anymore because everything that has happened to her has killed it and her conscience performed the ritual of burying her heart. She loves no one, all she can feel is pity, hatred and anger for her life, and anytime she thinks about it, shadows haunt her, she's into herself and I bet you, she lets no ONE in...

An exact translation was “my heart.” For some reason that made her stomach do a slow-rolling pitch and then continue into a complete somersault. He was slowly stealing her heart when she thought she no longer possessed one. She thought Levon had chopped her heart into little pieces and removed them from her one by one. He had taken her trust and stomped that into those pieces and then strewn them across the ground like so much trash because he had no use for such things. Somehow, Fero was finding them. She didn’t know how he could do that. Just that he could frightened her more than everything else combined.

, she keeps on shouting herself and breaks into a bluster of tears. Pulling her pillow from behind she hugs it close to her chest and holding it tight she cries and wails loud. Every hiccup of hers between the cry resonated the ounce of her pain. Her heart was shattered into million pieces and recalling that nightmare makes it impossible for her to recollect the pieces and mend them again.

Heart in splinters. The world spinning around her. Was this really how it ends? Tears filled her eyes. Her lips trembled.

Mahira escaped easy, her legs felt like they would give up on life any moment now, she just wanted to find a quiet corner and relax from all this chaos , the air in this room felt like it was filled with dirty thoughts of dirty minds, and she so hated this. No sooner had she taken a few steps when another hand popped out in front of her, blocking her way. Show me how much can you stand, seeing your love being shredded, someday you will fall... All Hearts !!

Through those repeated notes, I gradually rediscovered my old self and regained the passion and perseverance I had buried long ago. However, the process wasn't easy. My fingers were stiff, and my playing was riddled with mistakes. It felt like I was learning every piece from scratch. Even deep emotion couldn't mask the years of neglect. One afternoon, after practicing, I saw a new social media post while I was taking a break. Cecilia was showing off again. She posted a photo of a designer handbag with the caption, "A gift from Mr. Whitmore." The way she shared it made her seem smug and full of herself.

Charlie came with me. My cheeks were swollen and my eyes puffy and red. My arms and legs were scratched and bleeding. My feet were totally messed up. That's what happens if you run shoes less. I forgot to wear shoes. I felt physical pain. But it is nothing compared to the pain my heart was feeling. It just lays there beating. But the pieces that are shattered couldn't be taken. And I have no more strength. I want to die.....

I stuck the knife into her chest and cut hard until I removed her heart, which had stopped beating. I hold it in my hands and walk towards Emilio, who cries like a kid and doesn't dare look at his mother's dead body. My men extend their hands, and I place the heart in them, making Emilio cry harder and try to move away. But my men don't let him go. "I lied to you," I say, "the one who would leave here in a bag would be your mother." Emilio sobs again. "Now, what will I do with you?"

And worse, a part of her heart… had responded. Emma bit down hard on her lower lip. Memories flooded her: Grayson’s cold gaze that stripped her defenses bare, his sharp words that often cut deeper than he realized. But just as vivid were the fleeting moments that weakened her resolve—the time he carried her when she had been too injured to walk, the rare gentleness in his touch when he thought she was asleep, the flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn’t name. Those fragments betrayed her. They built an invisible chain around her heart. And now Leah’s words had yanked that chain cruelly, reminding her of where she truly stood.