Requiem Of A Broken Heart Novels & Stories

, I said, wishing that he would stop, “ look, I love you, so much, but I can't. I just can't” “ What do you mean you can't?” He asked, obviously confused, and I just felt sorry for him. I felt pity for him. He didn't understand, and he never will. The fact that my heart had been broken beyond repair, the fact that my mind and body would never allow me to become so vulnerable before anyone again, the fact that Hakim killed me, not with a sword or a gun, but with his eyes, and the fact that even though his hazel eyes looked nothing like those of Hakim, it still reminded me of him, of that day when he finally broke the spine of my heart, along with my ribs. He didn't understand, he never will u

As if they'd never curled their sweat dampened bodies around each other, lost in their little bubble where the outside world couldn't pierce through. He did what had to be done, even though he hated himself. He'd earned a degree in the field of breaking hearts. He could blame his family for their breakup all he wants but it didn't change the fact he hurt her badly. After what he did to Gabrielle courtesy of his parent he never intended to see her. But there she was, standing two feet apart from him. He remembered the promises he made to her, he swore to protect her when the world wasn't in her Favour and he failed to do that. He didn't deserve to see her again, not now not ever.

I stand up and walk slowly to him, I hold his hand again, resting my forehead on his back feeling his breathing, “pain doesn't define us Justin, it makes us stronger” He turns to me, his eyes dim, glossy with tears, “who broke us?” he says softly, touching my face softly. His touch was raw, deep, painful, he didn't move, he just stared at me with a sad face…I could feel it. “I have been broken a long time ago, I always say my heart doesn't even beat anymore that's how damaged I am” I chuckle wryly, “there's no point in having a heart right? Cara thinks I'm heartless, my mother thinks I lack compassion and you…you think I'm just…stock up”

And when people I love break, I don’t just hear it. I feel it. Every sob. Every silence. Every scream is buried too deep for words. And I swear to God, if it’s the last damn thing I do—I’ll piece her back together. Even if it kills me.

For thoughts that didn’t fit? In the sea, when grief broke a mind, we sang. We held them in the current until they remembered their name. We didn’t lock them away. So I shaped the words carefully for both of them: _My mind is not broken. My mother is dead. This is what we do for the dead._ Simy crumpled. Wrecked. Like he wanted to argue and couldn’t find the words. Like part of him wanted to believe and the rest was terrified to.

The laughter, the love, the moments that would never come to pass. Her heartache grew, her sobs of broken dreams. She rocked back and forth, cradling the gift as if it were a relic of a love she could never have. Each heaving breath mingled with her tears, a desperate attempt to purge the suffocating emotions that threatened to consume her.

"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."

"I'm sure you know how much I hate being misunderstood by someone I trusted," I said. I watched Helga stammer in panic, but my heart stayed cold. I thought I'd finally feel satisfied once she knew the truth, realized her mistake, and apologized. Even so, the misery lingered. The scars on my face were nothing, but my hands were ruined now. I'd never play the piano again. She'd destroyed the one thing I loved most without a second thought. Of course, I'd never get over this.

Over the last eight years, I've watched her come home with different men. Once, Anya stared at me with unusually solemn eyes despite being completely sloshed. "Shane, we belong to two different worlds. Don't fall for me," she slurred. I always thought Anya was a woman who had no idea what love was supposed to be like. Then, I found out a year ago that she had a first love who passed away from an illness. The young man Anya brought home last night actually resembled her dead love. Hence, I was not surprised to see him at breakfast with her.

Not like this. But to look at her now, unconscious, fragile, hardly breathing, something in me broke. I scooped her up into my arms, cradling her against me. She was so light. Too light. I swallowed. Damn it, Adeline. I had closed her out to break her. But maybe… just maybe… I'm the one who's broken instead. I tightened my arms around Adeline's limp body, my heart racing in my chest. "Stop teasing me," I muttered, rocking her gently. "Just wake up."