Things That Are Broken Novels & Stories

Apologize immediately, or I'm taking him to a hotel. The absurd accusation made me scoff bitterly. "What about you? Did you forget you ran out of the bathroom, soaking wet, just to take a phone call?" My words triggered Sophia's memory, yet she stubbornly held onto her stance. "Then, you should've cleaned it up instead of... Wait, you're bleeding." When I felt something sticky between my fingers, I looked down and saw blood trickling down my arm. Sophia stepped closer to inspect my injury, but Adrian suddenly groaned in exaggerated pain. "My ankle really hurts, Soph. I might've broken it. It hurts so much..."

I say glumly. “Why do you think that?” She asks, her tone sounding sad. “I’m broken and damaged. This should go to someone… who isn’t,” I say dejectedly. “You have been broken – physically and mentally – that’s true, but why does that make you undeserving of such a gift? The way I see it, it means you’re someone who can understand its significance and who will use it wisely,” she says as she locks her eyes with mine. “Did you know, when a broken bone is healing, during that time, that broken place in the bone becomes its strongest part? Being broken isn’t a personality flaw. It shows us just how strong we truly are.”

" I do not know how. Do not know what to do. Do not know how to fix what I just broke. All I know is that I just lost her. And this time it might be permanent.

Two of the chairs have survived unscathed but the others are still in pieces. “Mason can fix that, he'll have it good as new in seconds,” Theo says. “The laptop is dead, we will need to pick up a new one,” Luke drops the battered tech onto the side I'd just cleared. “I have a spare upstairs,” Deacon tells him. “Are you two done out there because dinner is ready and Deacon is not great at fixing things,” Theo shouts out of the broken door. “Thanks, Theo,” D huffs.

Georgia’s POV The banging on the door was so loud it shook the walls. I froze mid-step, my coffee cup slipping from my hand and breaking on the marble floor. My heart thudded so hard I could hear it in my ears. “Open up! Police!” The words cut through the air like a blade. I swallowed hard, muttering to myself, No… this can’t be happening. Not now. When the door burst open, men in dark uniforms stormed in, their faces stone cold. They surrounded me before I could even breathe.

I quickly stepped forward and helped her up. "Sarah and I are divorced. The past is in the past. There's no need to dwell on it any longer."

Her eyes meet mine and says, "Jessie, before I met you, I was broken. I was a pile of broken pieces, a mess left behind when I lost my late wife nearly three years ago. "This last year I've felt those broken pieces meld together only to shatter again a couple days ago. They shattered when you and our daughters left me for an old wedding tradition. I've never felt so lost during those hours than I did growing up. "I stand before you now and vow to love you till my last breath. I know I've come close a few months ago and I'm sorry. I vow to be your strength as the days unfold, your shelter, your home. I vow to cherish every moment I can grasp," she chokes with a smile, reaching up to wipe my t

It still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t done. I wasn’t nearly done. I started grabbing everything I could reach—my perfume tray, the vase from Santorini, my designer candle holders, the antique books I kept by the window seat. One by one, I sent them flying. The sharp cracks of broken things were the only thing holding me together. If I didn’t break them, I would break myself. I was already breaking. I was already broken. And then I saw it—half-buried beneath the scattered pillows, tipped over on its side. The old frame. I didn’t remember keeping it. I didn’t even remember placing it there. But it found me anyway.

As lovers do. What matters is that. In the end, I fell in love with the boy who, Broke my heart. ♡♡♡THE END♡♡♡ ___

“Why do you build things that break?” The fallen thing’s voice cracked like glass grinding against stone. It sat in the grey garden surrounded by trembling flowers, staring at a child’s wooden toy that had split down the middle. Lena picked up the pieces. “Because building teaches us. Breaking teaches us differently.” “That is inefficient. Above, things are built to last eternally. No breaking. No rebuilding. Just permanence.” “Sounds boring.” The thing’s blank face shifted. Features appeared, disappeared, reformed wrong. Two mouths. Three eyes. Then back to smooth nothing. “Boring is not a concept I understand.”