Chapter 3
629 Words
Breaking Apart
Anna barely made it through the front door before her legs gave out.
Her mother’s house was warm, safeof the familiar. But nothing felt real. Nothing felt right. The moment she stepped inside, her breath came in short, shallow gasps. The walls seemed to close in, the weight of everything suffocating her.
Eleanor, who had been coming from the kitchen, froze when she saw her daughter drop to the floor. “Anna?”
Anna gripped her head, rocking slightly, her thoughts spiraling. “I can’t,I just can’t breathe.”
Her mother rushed forward, kneeling beside her. “Sweetheart, look at me. What’s wrong?”
But Anna couldn’t answer. Words were stuck in her throat, tangled with the sharp, uncontrollable sobs that finally broke free. She clawed at her chest, as if trying to rip out the pain consuming her from the inside.
“He’s gone,” she gasped. “It’s over.”
Eleanor wrapped her arms around her, rocking her like she used to when Anna was a little girl. “Oh, baby.”
Anna clung to her mother, her entire body trembling. “I tried to be strong. I walked away. But it hurts, Mom. It hurts so much.”
Eleanor pressed a kiss to the top of her head, whispering soothing words. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
“I gave him everything,” Anna sobbed. “I loved him more than anything, and he threw it all away.”
Eleanor’s hold on her tightened. “And now, you have to love yourself enough to let go.”
Anna shook her head violently, her cries turning into gut-wrenching screams. “I don’t know how! I don’t know who I am without him! I don’t know how to breathe without him!”
Her mother held her as she shattered, as every wall she had built up came crashing down.
Meanwhile…
Noah
Noah slammed back another shot of whiskey, barely feeling the burn.
The club pulsed with music, bodies moving under flashing neon lights, but he felt nothing. Nothing but the ache in his chest, the anger boiling under his skin.
She had really left.
Anna had walked out of his life, and for the first time, he couldn’t chase after her.
Noah gritted his teeth, gripping the glass so tightly it nearly shattered.
“Another,” he growled at the bartender.
“Damn, man,” a voice slurred beside him. “You look like hell.”
Noah turned sharply to see a guy—probably in his mid-twenties, drunk off his ass—grinning at him. “You get dumped or something?”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “Walk away.”
The guy laughed. “Figures. You’ve got that ‘my girl left me and I deserve it’ kinda vibe.”
Noah saw red.
Before he even processed what he was doing, his fist connected with the guy’s jaw. The man stumbled back, slamming into a table, sending drinks flying.
“Whoa, man!” someone shouted.
The guy wiped blood from his mouth and grinned. “That all you got?”
Noah didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, knocking the guy down, landing another punch before hands grabbed at him, pulling him back.
“Get the hell off me!” he roared, struggling against the bouncers dragging him toward the exit.
“Cool off, asshole,” one of them muttered before shoving him out the door.
Noah stumbled onto the pavement, the cool night air hitting his sweat-drenched skin.
He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, his knuckles throbbing. But the pain in his fists was nothing compared to the hollow ache in his chest.
He had lost her.
And for the first time, he was starting to realize just how badly he had screwed everything up.
- Writer
