Fractured Beauty

Heartache

Dennis sighed, running a hand down his face.

Zari had never deserved any of this.

Not the bullying.

Not the envy.

And certainly not the cruelty of a man like Jason.

His hands clenched into fists. “Jason won’t get away with this”

Dennis forced himself to exhale slowly.

Right now, his only focus was her. Not Elena, not anyone.

He glanced at the untouched cup of ginger tea, the steam now fading.

He wished he could do more.

Wished he could reach into her chest and remove the pain that had been planted there for years by people who never deserved her.

Instead, he did the only thing he could.

He sat beside her, watching over her as she slept.

And when morning came, when she woke up and tried to pretend she was fine, he would remind her that she wasn’t alone.

That she never had to be alone again.

Even if it took forever, he would help her see what he saw.

That she was worth loving.

That she was, and always had been, beautiful.

The Next Morning

A sharp knock on the bedroom door pulled Zari from the depths of sleep. Her eyelids felt heavy, her throat raw from the tears she had shed. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The events of the previous night were blurry, but the dull ache in her chest reminded her that something had wrecked her inside.

Then all the memories suddenly came rushing back.

Jason’s voice—his mocking laughter.

The eyes of the crowd, watching her break down.

The sound of her own heartbeat, pounding with shame.

Her body tensed, shame settling over her like a thick blanket.

"Zari?" Dennis’s voice came from the other side of the door. It was soft, hesitant. "Are you awake?"

Zari shut her eyes tightly. She didn’t want to be.

The last thing she wanted was to face the world—to face herself.

"Go away, Dennis," she mumbled, her voice hoarse.

There was silence for a moment. She thought he might actually listen and leave.

Then came the sound of the door creaking open.

Zari groaned. "Dennis—"

"You didn’t drink the tea I made," he said, stepping inside with careful, deliberate movements.

Zari turned her head, her gaze falling on the untouched cup on her nightstand. The ginger-infused liquid was cold now, the steam long gone.

She sighed, sitting up slowly. The pounding in her skull reminded her that she had drowned her sorrow in too much alcohol the night before.

Dennis placed a fresh cup of tea on the nightstand, his expression concerned. "You need to eat something," he said seriously.

Zari scoffed, rubbing her temples. "I don’t need anything."

Dennis crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Zari, when was the last time you ate?"

She frowned, trying to recall.

The night of the banquet?

Yesterday morning?

She honestly couldn’t remember.

"Not hungry," she muttered.

Dennis sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, too close for her comfort. He studied her for a moment, his gaze gentle but unwavering. "I know you’re hurting," he said finally. "But starving yourself would worsen things for you.

Zari looked away, swallowing hard. She hated how much he saw.

Dennis sighed again but didn’t push further. Instead, he picked up the cup and held it out to her. "Just drink the tea."

After a long pause, she took it. The warmth of the cup against her fingers was soothing, even if nothing else felt that way.

She took a small sip. The spicy-sweetness of ginger coated her tongue, warming her throat.

Dennis watched her carefully, as if afraid she might crumble again.

"You don’t have to babysit me," she murmured.

"I’m not," Dennis said. "I just... I want to be here for you."

Something in his voice made Zari look up. His hazel eyes held an emotion she couldn’t name.

She wanted to tell him to stop looking at her that way.

To stop seeing something worthy in her when the entire world had told her otherwise.

Memories That Wouldn’t Fade

That day at the banquet wasn’t the first time she had felt this way.

She had spent her entire childhood learning that she was unappealing in the eyes of others.

Age 12 – The First Time She Realized She Was "Different"

"Wow, your breasts are huge!"

The words rang in Zari’s ears as she stood in front of the mirror in the school locker room, surrounded by other girls her age. They were petite, slender, delicate.

And then there was her.

She had curves—hips, breasts, a shape that didn’t match theirs.

"You look like a grown-up," one girl whispered, eyes wide.

Another giggled. "More like a giant."

The laughter burned in her ears.

That was the first time she had looked at herself and felt shame.

Age 15 – The First Time She Was Called Ugly

"Zari’s pretty, right?"

She had been hopeful when she overheard the boys talking. Maybe someone would admire her.

Then came the answer:

"Pretty? Are you blind? She’s huge! Too much of everything."

Another laugh. "She looks like she’s thirty!"

Zari’s stomach had twisted into knots.

She had run home that day, locking herself in her room, staring at her reflection and wondering why she wasn’t slim like the other girls.

Age 17 – The Moment She Stopped Believing in Love

"Sorry, I just don’t date oversized girls like you."

She had confessed her feelings to a boy she had liked for years.

His rejection hadn’t been kind. It hadn’t been gentle.

It had been cruel.

After that, she stopped hoping to find true love.

Back to the Present

Zari blinked, snapping out of her thoughts.

Dennis was still watching her, his concern evident.

She let out a bitter laugh. "You don’t get it, Dennis. You’ll never get it."

"Try me," he said, voice steady.

“Why should I try to make you understand something you can't comprehend? Every girls dying wish is for you to say hi to them, and every guy either admires you or wants to be your friend or to be like you!”

Zari shook her head. "While I’ve spent my whole life being told I’m a giant.Too big. Too different. Jason wasn’t the first person to humiliate me, and he won’t be the last."

Dennis’s jaw tightened. "That doesn’t mean he was right."

"Doesn’t it?" Zari challenged. "The world loves beautiful people, Dennis. And I—" She gestured at herself. "I’m not what they want."

Dennis’s expression darkened. "The world is full of idiots."

Zari let out a hollow laugh. "Easy for you to say."

Dennis reached forward, taking her hand in his. His touch was warm, steady.

"You listen to me, Zari," he said, voice quiet but firm. "I don’t care what the world says. I don’t care about their standards. You are more than beautiful."

She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip—not enough to hurt, just enough to keep her from running.

"You are strong," he continued. "You are kind. You are smart. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. And if you can’t see that yet, I’ll keep telling you until you do."

Zari stared at him, stunned.

No one had ever fought for her like this. No one had ever wanted to, except Leila.

Her lips trembled, but she swallowed back her emotions.

"I don’t need you to save me," she whispered.

Dennis softened. "I know."

A long silence stretched between them.

Finally, Zari exhaled.

Maybe—just maybe—Dennis wasn’t like the others.

Maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as alone as she thought.