"She's broken, this one."

They said I was broken.

"Yes, you are. You broke when he left. You loved him and he was stolen from you. When something tragic happens, the people closest are affected. Sometimes, the soul can crack and splinter when it experience loss. You already had cracks from the past. I think you are more than familiar with this idea."

He would hate all of this. But he'd hate me especially, he'd hate that I've cowered to you all these times. And I don't want him to hate me. I can't have him to hate me.