The Start Of Chaos (Book One)

A painful love is like a cup of coffee that's brewed too strong. At first sip, it jolts your senses, the bitterness cutting through. Yet, you keep drinking, because hidden in the bitterness is warmth, a comfort you can't seem to let go of. It lingers on your tongue, leaving a taste that's hard to forget, no matter how much water you drink after.

She hated how much she still longed for his voice, his touch-the way he made her feel whole, even as he broke her piece by piece.

She took another sip, each swallow heavy with the weight of memories she couldn't erase. Was it the coffee that burned her throat, or the sob she tried to choke back? Could she walk away from the warmth that had once felt like home, or was she destined to keep drinking from a cup that only left her emptier with every drop?

How do you let go of something that's already etched into your soul?