A broken Mate
Like I was reciting a script I’d been forced to learn.
But I said them anyway.
Because he’d told me not to break.
Because that was the only thing I had left that still felt like mine—whether I followed through or not.
My weight shifted, uneven and careful, as I tested my balance. The room swayed slightly, exhaustion pulling at me like chains, but I stayed standing. Barely. Just enough to keep from sinking back down and letting the pain win.
“I won’t break,” I repeated, quieter this time, my voice steadier than I felt. “Even if I already feel shattered.”
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