“I’ve already broken Melinda’s heart for you. Why are you being so hard on her?”
I sat on the cold floor like a discarded doll, lifeless, my tears falling silently.
Zayn’s expression softened as he watched me, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He knelt down beside me, taking my trembling hand in his.
“Xandra,” he said gently, as if his words could erase what had just happened. “Don’t worry.”
“I was careful,” he continued, his voice disturbingly calm. “You won’t be able to dance again, but you’ll still be able to walk. It’s not the end of the world.”
He said those words with such sincerity, as though his cruelty was an act of kindness—like stealing my dream was some sort of twisted gift.
I leaned my head back against the wall, the weight in my chest suffocating. My heart felt like it had been crushed under the same club he had used on my leg. I never thought the man I loved would not only break my heart but also destroy my body.
For years, I had clung to the memory of the boy who loved me at first sight, the boy who once promised, “Xandra, I’ll love you forever. Even if your grandma’s gone, I’ll protect you with everything I have.”