The Broken Hearts Gallery Cast Novels & Stories

The mirror invites Perci to see his soul and the condition of his heart, to look past physical features. He sees nothing but a man in his 40's, single and broken. 'I wish I had not met you again.' He broke the mirror; it was the last mirror in his room because the rest is broken. A crack runs across the glass, finding the weaknesses that were once small. From a perfect mirror to something that is unrecognizable. He watches each fragment fly outward until they lie still yet vicious on the Marmol floor. Breaking glass has become his art and comfort. There is nothing more broken than his heart. Those fragments are nothing compared to his heart. He watched them shatter and release just a fragmen

They thought we were in love with each other, but when you grew up as we did, then you’d know, family is important. ‘You have to understand that I can’t just hand you my heart either because people trampled on it already. I don’t even know if I can piece it back together. You know, like Humpty Dumpty, some parts are now so tiny they're like chalk. What do you do with that? I’m broken, and you probably won’t want me, anyway.’ ‘I have to go. Let me wash these, so you can leave,’ she scrambled to leave again, scared of his answer.

“Do I even know him at all?” Keenan exhales softly, resting his forehead against mine. “Right now,” he says, “you don’t have to figure any of that out you just have to breathe.” I close my eyes as tears still sliding down my cheeks and for the first time since opening that box I allow myself to be held but deep inside, something hard settles a quiet, painful understanding that my life with Ethan is broken beyond repair and whoever sent these photos didn’t just expose a secret they destroyed whatever remained of my heart.

She is just being lowkey because she thinks I'm just poor and I'm not up to her standards even though I'm physically qualified. Anyway, those thoughts cheered me up even more. I even hummed along with the song playing on the stereo. If I'm not mistaken it was Maybe This Time by David Murphy. Ah, Carmelita... Carmelita... Soon you will fall into my trap. You will be the first one who will taste the revenge of a man who's been broken and hurt by your kind. I was still humming the song. I was in my best mood. And unknowingly, I did not notice a pair of eyes that were secretly and carefully checking my every move.

However, it had gone cold. As I didn't have the strength to hold the cup steady, it hit the floor and shattered into pieces. Just then, my phone buzzed nonstop with messages from the work group chat. "Quick, check social media. Did Mr. Bender just announce he's dating Ms. Hubbard?" The word "dating" hit me like a knife to the heart. With trembling hands, I clicked into Lily's profile. She'd posted a photo of a gemstone necklace with the caption, "First month with my boyfriend and I'm already getting such an expensive present! I'm so happy!"

“Even if I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Christine took a sip from her glass. “Start with…– Well, was it you breaking her heart or the other way around?” Joe let out a little laugh. “Good question. Let’s see… Regarding my heart, I’m pretty sure it’s not broken. If anything it’s been dissolved in too much acid. And hers – I’m not entirely sure she’s got one.” “Wow,” Christine sighed. “That’s quite an assessment!” “Well, maybe that wasn’t totally fair.”

He pushed Valerie aside, ignoring Dustin's shouts, and bolted from the hall. The gallery was a desolate ruin. Charred curtains dangled from broken beams, the walls marred with sooty scars. Police had cordoned off the area, but Nathan tried to force his way through. "Let me in! Someone is still inside!" "Sir, please cooperate with our investigation." He caught sight of the half-destroyed "Embers" being carried out and collapsed to his knees, his eyes webbed with crimson veins, his lips trembling. "This is Gail's painting. How could it be?"

His eyes became bloodshot and the veins on his hands holding the bouquet of roses bulged. The pain in his heart made it difficult for him to stand upright. When a staff member noticed him spacing out at one of the paintings, he went up to Tyler to explain, "Sir, you do have an eye for art. This portrait is Mr. Finley's romantic partner—" The staff member seemed to have stepped on Tyler's toes with his words. Tyler snapped back, "Bullshit. She is my partner. She's mine." His voice echoed loudly in the empty exhibition hall.

The statue stopped walking and scanned the room, its eyes narrowing with anger that was very un-Rachel Meers like. “I was murdered, and this is what you do?” it asked, voice filling with rage. “You celebrate the death of a teenage girl?!” The statue's hands balled into fists. “I... I didn't know.” he (she) pleaded, trying to choke down the hysteria in his (her) voice. “You… I didn't know you were real...”

I tried to fight my way out of his grip, but he picked me up and placed me back on the counter. “Away from here, away from people who judge me and make me feel like shit.” he placed his hand on my cheek, making me look up to him. “The only person making you feel like shit and judging you, is you.” He said with a soft voice. “Please don’t” “What? Telling you the truth?” “No, trying to get some kind of humanity out of me. I’m a lost cause. Don’t try to save me, the only person who can do that, died while she told me over the phone she loves me and a gunshot silent her before I could tell her I love her back.”