Unbreak My Heart Book Novels & Stories

I open a message to her again. I am sorry if I was coming across as pushy outside, but I know you are lying. I know you are hurt. I also know you won’t tell me what happened since we barely know each other. Just know that if you need to talk, I am here, without judgment, brown eyes xx I will be the first to admit I am an asshole, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart. I hate knowing anyone is hurting in silence. I know first-hand what it is like.

I meant to transfer her to the Michigan branch if she continued to pester me with her loud music. When the driver started the car, I studied the book cover she gave me. Only now did I realize the title of the book, “Where Do Broken Hearts Go?” I suddenly worried about Leigh after realizing that this book is a kind of self-help, an inspiring book providing insights about loss and grief. I close my eyes, wondering how Leigh is now.

The audience gets quiet, waiting to hear what I’m going to say. “This poem is called Unapologetically Me. We go through different things in life that cause us pain. We have people in our lives, who make it their mission to break us or destroy us, but we are stronger than that. So, I dedicate this to all of us who have ever been through heartache and survived.” Unapologetically Me By Lotta Patterson © 2021 You tried to break me, But I’m unbreakable. You tried to shake me,

Hello, my amazing readers. This book is almost finished a few chapters left to finish it off. Please watch for The Cursed Bond. The story of Victoria and her mate. There are five books in this series. 1-Love and Fear 2-Unbreakable bonds 3-The Cursed Bond 4-Blood Moon Assassins 5-Legacies The next book should be approved and ready to start by early May. Thank you so much for reading. DAMON

Chapter 2 — A Dangerous Attraction The atmosphere in the club had shifted from exhilarating to suffocating. The bass from the speakers didn't just play anymore; it thumped against Aiden’s ribs like a rhythmic warning. He sat at the bar, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, trying to drown out the memory of Liner’s voice and the persistent, prickly sensation that he was being watched. He tried to ignore Justine’s earlier teasing, the hollow ache of his heartbreak, and the unsettling silhouette he had seen through the glass upstairs.

"Ms. Celeste, Uncle Beck and I are going to set off fireworks later. Do you want to come over?" Celeste assumed she was referring to going to the Harper family's place. So, she replied, "I can't today, sweetie. I have other things to do. Maybe next time, okay?" "Oh, okay." Shanice chatted with Celeste for a little while longer, but soon, something else caught her attention, and she ran off. Beck took the phone back and said, "Happy Ember's Day." Celeste replied, "Happy Ember's Day." Without Shanice in the conversation, the video call suddenly felt a bit awkward to Celeste.

This was literally life or death… “Wait, please!” I whispered, looking down at the ground. My heart was still pounding as I felt his grip tighten. Perhaps he thought I was going to confess my love for the Scots or their ideals. Well, that wouldn’t be too far off, since I did this because of just that—their ideals. But first, I was going to betray them. I looked up and met the face of a man eager to kill. But somehow, I could hear my grandmother’s voice inside my head: never underestimate a woman’s wit or a man’s stupidity to fall for it. The words gave me courage, and I pressed on.

Something in me already broke that night. Not with a crash. No. It cracked slowly, quietly. Like the sound of old wood giving way under weight it wasn’t meant to carry. The kind of break you don’t notice at first—until one day, you look at the thing, and it’s no longer whole. And this time… It didn’t heal. *** I rose from the chair in my study, every movement slow, deliberate — like my body already knew the weight of what my heart refused to carry. I walked to the bookshelf, not for a book, but for what I kept behind them. Hidden. Not because it was shameful… but because it mattered too much.

He even convinced the system to play the role of a fictitious first love to deepen the wound. To provoke me even more, the system chose an appearance similar to my eyes. The effect was significant. In the days that followed, it seemed like I was the only one suffering. But in reality, we were torturing each other. Still, there was something strange about me. My love was deep, but my hatred was shallow. So Freddie had no choice but to get rid of the camellia tree we had planted together, the symbol of our bond. When the petals fell, my Heartbreak Level soared to almost 90.

He made her bleed. I didn't realize that they had already untied my arms from over the chair until I pressed my palm against my chest. My heart squeezed so tight, I could feel it splintering, disintegrating into dust. I have never felt anything this painful. Never. I have never had my heart broken in this way.