HURT ME

I used to believe that home was supposed to be the safest place in the world. A place where you could breathe without fear, where silence felt peaceful instead of heavy, and where love was something you could feel without having to beg for it. But for me, home was never like that. It was cold walls, closed doors, and words that hurt more than silence ever could. It was learning how to stay quiet during dinner, how to smile even when my chest felt too heavy, and how to pretend I was okay because no one really asked if I wasn’t. My mother always said pain builds strength. Maybe that was why she made me carry so much of it. She called it discipline. She called it protection. She called it love. But love shouldn’t feel like walking on broken glass. Every mistake felt like a crime. Every choice I made was never enough. I spent years trying to become the daughter she wanted—perfect, obedient, untouchable. And still, I failed. Sometimes I would stand in front of the mirror and stare at the girl looking back at me, wondering if she was the problem. Maybe I was too soft. Too emotional. Too difficult to love. Maybe that was why people always left. Maybe that was why even my own home felt like a battlefield. The only person who ever made it easier was my brother, Marco. He was the kind of person who tried to hold broken things together even when he was breaking too. He told me I deserved better. He told me life would get easier someday. I wanted to believe him. I really did. So I learned how to survive. I buried my feelings beneath good grades and fake smiles. I wore confidence like armor. I told myself I didn’t need anyone, because needing people only gave them the power to hurt you. And I promised myself one thing— I would never let love destroy me. Funny, isn’t it? How life laughs at promises like that. Because just when I thought I had finally learned how to protect my heart, he walked into my life. Cidian De Luca. The kind of man people warned you about. Cold. Untouchable. Dangerous. He had the kind of eyes that looked like they carried storms, and a silence that made people uncomfortable. He didn’t smile often, but when he did, it felt like something sharp—beautiful enough to admire, dangerous enough to bleed for. Everyone said to stay away from him. And maybe I should have. Maybe I should have turned around the moment our eyes met for the first time. Maybe I should have listened to every warning, every rumor, every red flag standing right in front of me. But pain has a strange way of recognizing pain. And somehow, in the middle of all his darkness, I saw something familiar. Something lonely. Something broken. Maybe that was my first mistake. Or maybe it was the beginning of everything. Because loving Cidian De Luca was never going to be simple. It was going to ruin me. And the worst part? A part of me already knew that— and loved him anyway.