Monique
"I'm not broken," I said quietly, the words escaping my lips like a confession I wasn’t sure I believed.
I wanted to... God, I wanted to. Because what is a broken person, really? Is it someone who cries at night and hides it in the morning? Someone who gives their heart to someone and watches them shatter it without warning? If so, maybe I was broken. But I didn’t want to be.
“I know you’re not,” Marcus said gently, his voice solid and sure.
He let go of me and leaned back into his seat, giving me space but not distance. “You’re not broken, Monique. Not even a little bit. All he did was break your trust and make you doubt yourself. And you are, right now. I can see it.”
I nodded slowly, letting his words wash over me like waves that hurt just enough to feel real.
“The first
