Twice Broken
423 Words
The days after I confronted Damien were a blur.
I thought I had finally seen the truth clearly.
But the truth wasn’t simple.
It wasn’t clean.
It was twisted, tangled, like the bruises hidden beneath my sleeves.
Damien barely spoke to me. When he did, his voice was low and haunted.
“I didn’t want this to happen,” he whispered one night, sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. “She came back. I didn’t know how to say no.”
His confession cut through me like a knife.
“I’m so sorry, Liana. I never wanted to hurt you.”
But the pain in my heart didn’t soften.
Because how many times could sorry fix the pieces he shattered?
Mira wasn’t going away.
She kept calling.
Texting.
Sending messages filled with threats and demands.
“She wants more money,” Damien told me one afternoon, his voice cracking. “Says if I don’t pay, she’ll go to the police with a false claim.”
I stared at him, my hands trembling.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“I was ashamed,” he admitted. “I wanted to protect you.”
Protect me?
How could lying to me be protection?
Days later, Mira’s messages became more urgent.
“Damien, you owe me.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You can’t hide from me.”
Her words replayed in my mind like a haunting melody.
And then came the moment that broke me again.
I found a photo on Damien’s phone — Mira’s hand resting on her swollen belly.
The pregnancy was real.
Not a lie.
Not a scam.
And she wasn’t hiding it anymore.
When I asked Damien why he hadn’t told me, his answer was cold.
“Because I didn’t want to lose you.”
But how could I believe that when his heart was split between us?
I was twice broken.
By the abortions I endured alone.
By the lies I was forced to live.
By a man who loved me while loving her.
The nights were the hardest.
Alone in my room, the silence swallowed me whole.
I cried for the children I never met.
For the future I lost.
For the woman who was carrying the baby he refused to claim.
And yet…
Some part of me still clung to the hope that he might change.
That love could somehow heal what hate had destroyed.
But deep down, I knew…
Love was no longer enough.
- Writer
