Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Everything was shattered.
The table, the mirror, the glass on the floor-every piece of furniture in the room looked as broken as I felt inside. I didn't even remember what I'd thrown first. I just sat there, slumped against the wall under that damn flickering light, surrounded by destruction that felt quieter than the storm in my chest.
My knuckles were bleeding. I could feel the sting every time I moved my hand, but it was nothing compared to the way my heart was tearing itself apart. I kept staring at the cracks in the mirror.
How could I say that to her?
How could those words come from me-to her?
She was my little disaster. My chaos. The one who turned my world upside down and somehow made everything make sense. Ivy was wild, unpredictable, stubborn as hell-but she was mine. Or... at least I thought she was. .
She stood there crying-crying-I thought it was all a show. I thought it was just another scene, another game. So I said those words.
Cruel. Cold. Unforgivable.
I said them, and I watched her face crumble like she'd been hit. Like she couldn't believe I was the one doing this to her. And I did nothing. I didn't reach out. I didn't pull her into my arms. I just stood there with all my damn pride, like some fool.
But I turned back. I did turn back. My feet moved before my mind even caught up. When she said she needed me , those words kept ringing in my head again and again. I couldn't stand the look on her face. I couldn't leave her like that. So I went back , went back to look after her.
And I found her-in his arms.
Her head was buried in his chest, her shoulders shaking. She was crying like her entire soul was unraveling, and he held her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he'd done it before. Like he belonged there.
And me?
I just stood there. Frozen. Watching the girl I loved fall apart in someone else's embrace.
I was coming back to you. I was going to take it all back, beg if I had to, fall to my knees if that's what it took. I was ready to break for you if it meant you'd still look at me like you used to. But I was too late. And I keep asking myself-if you really loved him, if you really chose him, then why were you crying like the world had ended?
Why were you crying like you were the one who'd been left?
I don't understand.
My mind won't stop spinning. It's like I'm standing in the middle of a storm, and nothing's making sense. If she's his now, why did it feel like she was breaking just as much as I was?
I feel like I'm missing something. Something huge. Something important. Something real. And it's killing me.
When I got home that night, I stumbled into my room, numb, exhausted, still hoping maybe this was all a mistake. That I'd wake up and she'd be there, calling me an idiot, hitting me with a pillow, laughing that chaotic laugh that made my chest feel light.
