Chapter 19: Too Broken to Be Saved

The rain poured harder, pounding against the umbrella he held above me, but I refused to look up.

His shoes stopped just inches from where I sat curled on the steps, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees like a broken doll left out in the storm.

His voice was calm but carried the weight of authority, the kind that didn't ask—it expected obedience.

"Stand up."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Stand up?

How?

Did he not see the way my body trembled, the way my soul had long since collapsed under the weight of failure?

"Leave me… please…" I rasped, my voice raw and barely audible above the roar of the rain.

But he didn't leave.

He crouched down to my level, his face close enough that I could feel the faint warmth of his breath against my rain-soaked cheek.

"You don't belong here," he said again, softer this time.

And God, how those words hurt.

I wanted to scream at him—I do belong here!

In the dirt. In the cold. In the misery.

This was the life I had earned through every poor choice, every time I'd stayed when I should've run, every time I believed in love when all it brought me was pain.

I wasn't the kind of woman who got saved.

I was the kind who drowned quietly, forgotten by the world.

My fingers dug harder into my knees as fresh tears mixed with the rain streaming down my face.

"Go…" I whispered again, the word like a final breath before surrender.

For a long, heavy moment, he didn't move.

And then, in the gentlest motion I hadn't expected, a large, warm hand reached out and carefully touched my clenched fists.

His fingers were strong but steady, radiating a calm I had long since forgotten existed.

"Sometimes," he said quietly, "the hardest part isn't standing up. It's believing you still deserve to."

My throat tightened painfully.

No one had ever said that to me before.

And in that fragile, breaking moment, I hated him for it.

Because a tiny, stubborn part of me—buried beneath all the scars and heartbreak—wanted to believe he was right.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I stayed right where I was.

Silent. Broken.

Waiting for the storm to pass… or take me with it.