His Cruel Love, My Broken Heart

her. They were inseparable, their happy photos

provided and into a small, ste

There wasn't much. A few changes of clothes, some books, and the glass jar, now mor

ley's butler. "Miss Holt, Mr. Porter reques

washed over me. I ha

nd foyer of the Porter estate, a

slapped

y cheek burned, but the pain was distant,

I asked, my voice ste

ask of rage. "You stole my mother's eme

ecklace in my life, except in the photos in his se

n the other cheek. This time, I

the corner of my l

eplace, watching the scene unfold with cold detachment. She threw herself into his arms, sobbing dra

could never hear. His eyes, however, were fixed on

flat. "She wants you to kneel on the gravel pat

erature was dropping. My wound fro

didn't believe her. But there was nothing. Just empty ind

My voice was q

ring rain. I knelt on the sharp gravel,

ed my head and looked at them

sound of the rain. "The old Kaci would have begged for

d. She looked at me, her

was a girl who cried when she was hurt. A

iled a training exercise. I had cried from t

laced with contempt. "If you want to stay by my

ned to swallow my pain. I learned

behind the glass, though he couldn't hear. "I beg

cold seeped into my body, a deep,

oom. He had his arm around her. They were laughing. He pulled out a c

y to its limits, just to be worthy of standing behind him. I remembered the p

ness was reserved for only o

ched my lips. How

be cherished. I am

it was different. It was no longer the pain of a heartbroken girl.

I will endure

is the

orward, I will