Damaged Goods, A Priceless Return

a! W

r, a desperate need to escape fueling my steps. His voice, once a comfort, now felt like

arm. The touch, once electric with reassurance,

s wide with a confusion that felt utterly fake. "What d

rds I wanted to scream turning to bitter ash

nce in his tone. "You know how she gets. She just wants to be

akness. Not his betrayal. I remained silent, my body tremb

politics, you know? Your piece, it was amazing. Truly. But it was... a lot." He paused, searching for words, but his eyes were already gl

st the girl who created it? Had he ever truly understood the years of painstaking effort, the fragments of my soul I had poured into every line, every curve of "Reso

n shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting around the hallway, as if

his voice, "the band's got a gig tonight. Sm

years ago, a token of my quiet devotion. In its place, a chunky, silver cuff gleamed, studded with turqu

missed me, forgotten me, replaced me. He valued the superficial, the easily admired, the p

brated in my bones. One tear escaped, tracing a hot path down my che

fierce, unwavering resolve hardened in my chest. I w

uld see him one last time. One last performance. Then, he