Shatter Me Tv Show Novels & Stories

Was everything was truth. I really loved her. And that's why I have. Shattered. Shattered in a way that can't be sticked back. The thing that everything she have done, and thinking it again again everytime. It makes it harder on me. The glass is breaking more intensely, the glass that is settled in my heart. Its in the amount of pain, that can't be described. Its in pieces that numbers can't be counted. Glue can't stick it back. I am shattered. And not just shattered. When she is agreeing everything without any hesitation. And guilt. It makes put harder for me.

This get away is more of a toxins related one. I need to get my mind off this bullshit. Now. S H A T T E R E D "ASSHOLE!" I grunted while laying another punch to the jocks now broken, bloody, damaged face. He was almost knocked out cold on the dirty alleyway ground as I kept his body pinned down which was almost two times bigger than mine. He pissed me off at the wrong time. I looked up for a split second during my chain of punches and that's when I saw it. The red and blue flashing lights.

DOMINIC POV “What do you mean she is not there??” I yell out my voice harsh and filled with anger. “Sir she’s not here, we pinged his phone and this was the location we got but-“ He says into the phone apologetically “Uggrhhhh!!” I yell out gripping the phone tightly, I throw it across the marble floor watching it break into pieces I watch the phone shatter, pain, and anger engulf me, “I can't believe this happened, how-?” I stand there confused and shattered

I yell, whiskey breath hot, and she jerks back, terror flashing. “Nothing—let go!” she cries, voice breaking, and JJ wails, a shrill sound that cuts through my fog, like my mother’s kid cries when Dad swung. I stop, hand falling, his sobs a wall, but the doubt festers—she’s in this, and I’ll drag it out. The TV hums—Sheila again: “Jeremy Cali’s condition worsens, lung damage critical.” My chest caves, a roar ripping free, and I snatch a vase—ugly, porcelain—and smash it against the wall, shards flying like my sanity.

Liam stood nearby, silent, unreadable. "Come," Ella said softly, guiding me to the couch. "I'm sorry. Was I shouting too much?" I tried to smile, to ease her guilt. But it came out twisted, hollow. "It wasn't your shouting," I said, my voice weak. "It was the glass. When it shattered, it... brought something back." "Oh, dear." Her hand closed gently over mine, trying to steady the tremble. "Here," Liam said quietly, offering me a glass of water. I stared at him for a moment, surprised. Then I took it. The cold water slid down my throat and seemed to calm the storm in me, at least for now.

He paused, watching her closely, as if weighing whether or not she'd bolt. "So I pushed you away. I told myself I was protecting you, but really, I was protecting myself. From being revealed. From being open. From letting anyone know how fucking scared I was." A breath stuck in Isla's throat. Her fingers tightened around her cup. Killian continued, his voice softer now. "I thought that control was the only thing that prevented me from shattering. That if I just controlled everything—my business, my relationships, even you—I would never shatter. But I was wrong. I lost you, and I shattered."

, and "Thanks for everything you've given me" All of that was mine once. "Lisette, you lived on my dime and stole my friends. What's next? Are you going to take my parents, too?" I snapped. I'd just gotten out of the hospital, and my body couldn't handle the stress. A sharp pain pierced my heart again, and I collapsed, clutching my chest. "Cecilia!" Edgar's eyes widened in shock. "Cecilia!" Silas rushed toward me.

I made sure they paid—in the cruelest, most humiliating way possible. I tore my father’s company apart, crushed his legacy, and gathered allies who wanted him ruined just as much as I did. And just when I thought I had nothing left to lose, I found my fiancée in bed with my half-brother, Gregory. Chanel had been the last illusion I had about love. And when that illusion shattered, I stopped believing in anything. I swore off women. I lived recklessly, throwing myself into work, into power, into winning.

And now I am standing in the wreckage of that loyalty, watching her try to rewrite it. She steps forward, her eyes wide, her mouth trembling. “Fiona, you have it all wrong. It’s not what you think~” I laugh. It’s a brittle, hollow sound that feels like glass cracking in my throat. “Why do people always say that? Every damn fucking time. First Edward, now you. You always say it’s not what I think, when it’s exactly what I think. It’s exactly what it looks like. You hurt me. You hurt our friend group. You shattered something that mattered.”

"What? Do you think I'm making this up to scare you?" The warm light from above cast a slanted shadow on the edge of the table. He stared at me, and for once, didn't rush to deny anything. "You broke up with me…because of this?" I almost laughed. "Does it even matter now? Even if I were healthy, I never would have lasted long enough for you to finally turn around and look at me. I overheard your friends talking. Apparently, I wasn't even someone you'd be willing to settle for. I used to think we'd actually make it to the end."