Broken

Chapter 15: Breaking dawn

The present, Fatima jolted awake, her heart racing from the remnants of a nightmare. She sat up in bed, the room shrouded in darkness, and took a moment to steady her breathing. Her eyes landed on her phone on the nightstand, the bright screen piercing through the dimness as she picked it up. Squinting, she noticed several missed calls from Brandon. Ignoring the time, she quickly typed out a text, instructing him to call a meeting in the morning.

Glancing at the clock, she saw it was 4:02 a.m. Restless and unable to fall back asleep, she felt the need to clear her mind. She slid out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and splashed cold water on her face. The chill helped wake her up further. She dressed in a matching lilac Miu workout set, the comfortable yet stylish outfit giving her a sense of readiness.

Moving quietly to avoid waking Jose, she slipped out the door and began her run. The cool morning air greeted her as she picked up the pace, her sneakers hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm. The world around her was still and quiet, the only sound being her own breathing and the occasional rustle of leaves.

By the time she reached the park, the sky had begun to lighten with the promise of dawn. She glanced at her Apple Watch, noting that it was 5:30 a.m. Fatima stopped, bending forward to rest her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. She had pushed herself harder than usual, running further than she typically would.

As she straightened up, she looked around the empty park, the solitude amplifying the turmoil in her mind. The physical exertion hadn't fully chased away the thoughts plaguing her, and she sighed heavily, feeling the weight of her encounter with her father and the burdens of her life pressing down on her.

Fatima stared out into the park, the early morning stillness offering no comfort. Her thoughts swirled chaotically, and the cold reality settled in: she was losing her mind. The relentless pressure, the unresolved trauma, and the secrets she kept buried deep within were all threatening to consume her. Her father's mocking words echoed in her mind, taunting her with truths she couldn't escape. The hallucinations of Jada, the constant vigilance to maintain her image, and the overwhelming guilt she carried were all taking their toll.

She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering dangerously close to the abyss. Fatima had always prided herself on her strength, on her ability to control every aspect of her life. But now, that control was slipping through her fingers like sand, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. The fear of unraveling, of being seen as weak, gnawed at her, and she struggled to hold on to the façade she had carefully constructed.

As she stood there, alone in the park, the reality of her situation hit her with full force. She was exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The walls she had built around herself were crumbling, and for the first time, she felt truly scared. The clarity she sought through the run had eluded her, leaving her with a stark realization: how long was she going to live like this.

Zac jogged into the park, his own restless mind driving him out of bed and onto the path. He was surprised to see Fatima standing alone, seemingly lost in thought. Concern flashed across his face as he approached her, noting her disheveled appearance and the absence of her usual entourage. "Fatima," he called out, a mix of surprise and concern in his voice. "Where are your bodyguards?"

Fatima looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and exhaustion. She hesitated for a moment, then finally let her walls down, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I get a hug?" she asked, the need for comfort evident in her tone. "I just need a hug."

Without a second thought, Zac stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Fatima melted into his arms, the weight of the world seeming to lift, if only for a moment. She closed her eyes, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat against her cheek, the strength in his hold. It was a rare moment of weakness, a fleeting break in her usually impenetrable armor.