When Your Life Is Falling Apart Novels & Stories

Another lie. How many more before everything falls apart?

Now it felt like the world was crumbling. “Come with me,” Grandma whispered, tugging gently at my arm. I let her lead me into the kitchen, where she sat me down at the table. “What’s wrong, Phoebe? You look… off.” I sighed and slumped forward, resting my head on the cool surface of the table. “It’s everything, Grandma. I feel like my family’s falling apart. And it’s messing up my life.” She frowned. “Sweetheart, no one’s falling apart. We’re just going through a rough patch. Every family does.”

The restraining order. Everything was falling apart.

you try to work, but when it's time, you are breaking down. And what was happening with Claire was not just a silly breakup, or normal gossip or life crises. It was the most horrible phase of her life, which was trying to survive every day for the sake of her family or for herself also because she is not a weak person but at that moment she lost it.

They raised their hands. And reality began to unravel. Not collapse. Unravel. Like pulling a thread and watching everything come undone. "No," I whispered. But I could feel it. My scattered pieces being pulled. Kade's between-presence being torn. The network being unwoven. Everything falling apart. I was too fragmented to stop it. Too scattered to fight. Too weak to save anyone. We'd lost. And existence itself was about to pay the price.

He just needed to make a single phone call to ruin Brutus' life for good. Soon, Brutus found himself at the mercy of everyone he crossed paths with. His company went bankrupt, and his creditors even managed to find him and give him a few good beatings.

So I turned my phone face down again, exhaling sharply. The world was still moving outside that window—people walking dogs, traffic lights changing, baristas calling out orders. But for me, time had stopped at the sound of Coach’s voice slurring my name. I rested my forehead on my palm, staring at the swirling patterns on the wooden table. There was a coffee stain near my hand and it looked like a spreading bruise. What now? I wondered as I looked at the stain with eyes so wide it was painful. How do you keep functioning when someone you love is falling apart and there’s no playbook to fix it?

And then I put my face in my hands and I fall apart. Not prettily. Not quietly. The ugly kind ... the kind that has been building for three weeks of headlines and cancelled contracts and Tristan's smiling eyes on national television and my mother's empty chair and four million dollars and death threats and a ruined dress and mismatched eyes in a hotel room and all of it, every single piece of it, coming apart at once. He puts his hand on my back. He doesn't speak. He just sits there while I completely unravel and when I finally come up for air, face a mess, dignity entirely destroyed, he hands me a mug without comment and I take it with both hands and breathe.

I used all my strength when he came closer and pushed him. “Go to hell!” I shouted as his steps stumbled and he fell… down… “Ahh!!” I paused in horror of what happened. Blinking to fathom if it was a hallucination or reality and… it was real. I-I pushed him and he fell down. With tears flowing out of my eyes, my life was ripped apart as I fell on my knees, knowing that at this point, my life was shattered. My life was ruined. “NOO!! C

It's not that I'm not used to hate, but because everyone believes anything they see on the internet, even if it's not the truth of the whole story. I sat down on the cold floor lifelessly. Staring at my screen. Is this the start of my downfall? Twelve years of my hard work… and this is what I get in return?