Broken (Manhattan Ruthless Book 1)

I open my eyes, blinking at the rays of afternoon sun glaring through the window. Pain washes over me anew, and my heart breaks all over again. I’m curled up on Nathan’s chest, and my cheek is stuck to his shirt, which is soaked with my tears. I shift in his arms, and he mumbles something unintelligible.

I try to wriggle from his grip, but he bands his arms tighter around me. “Where are you trying to go?” he asks softly.

I sniff. “I-I soaked your shirt, sorry.”

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “You can cry an ocean if you need to, Mel. I’ll be right here.”

I sniffle again. “I’m stiff. I need to move.”

He hums but releases me, allowing me to roll onto my side. When he turns to face me, he brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, corazón.”

I shake my head. “It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

He swallows. “It would have to me.”

“I did everything right. At least I think I did.” I blink away another tear.

He cups my chin in his hand. “You did, Mel. You did everything. This is not your fault. Tell me you know that.”

Logic tells me that’s true, even if my heart won’t let me believe that yet. “What if …” My lip trembles. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He dusts his lips over my forehead. “What, corazón?”

“What if I’m broken?” The words leave my mouth on a sob.

He sighs, his warm breath dancing over my skin. “You’re not. At least not in the way you mean. But we’re all a little broken, Mel. It’s the inevitability of a life well lived. And it’s the pieces of us that knit back together that make us who we are.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and bury my face in his chest once more. “Thank you for coming today.”

“There is no world where I wouldn’t be there for you and our baby. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

I nod. But the reminder that there is no baby anymore makes tears burn my eyes again. This is the end of him and me for good, but neither of us wants to admit that right now. Because at this moment, we’re all each other has.

“We slept through lunch. Let me make you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He rubs a soothing hand along my spine. “Regardless, you’re going to eat, corazón.”

I grumble a feeble protest but don’t resist when he takes my hand and pulls me up from the bed.