Elia
People say nobody can understand pain like a broken heart. But that's not correct. Because broken hearts don't understand pain. They feel the pain. The pain piling up inside them. The pain like there was nothing but emptiness inside. The pain when you try to breath but there's not enough air to fill the hollow gaping hole punched in your chest. The pain that burn your insides slowly and ruthlessly. I was feeling exactly that pain.
Like someone lit me on fire. Like I couldn't breath. Like I was drowning.
"Mr Moretti," The thwab cladded sheikh called and I turned my eyes back to the meeting. (Thwab: traditional clothing that Arab men wear, generally long white tunic)
"Yes," I muttered, trying to focus. I co
