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Chapter 2 The Shattering

Word Count: 1434    |    Released on: 24/03/2026

tars. Steve watched the waiter pour with the kind of precision that suggested

g sip. The kind of sip people

uiet," St

think

ut w

n of a second, he saw something human in her eyes. Something that might have

u to listen to me

liste

together for

s and thr

reach her eyes. "You alw

verything abo

. He had memorized every one of her habits. The way she tucked her hair behind her left ear when she was nervous. The way she bi

loving someone who existed a

bout you,

er understood the difference between tho

hed. Like the word was a phy

eve

it is, jus

estaurant floor with the silent confidence of someone who had never been denied entry to anything in his life. He was tall. Broad-s

er with a familiarity that made Ste

e table's ready upstairs.

a

her shoulder. Then at Lois's

teady, which surprised him because ever

She looked at the man, and the expression on her face was

th relief. Like she had been holding her breath

s is Hayes

ily whose net worth was measured in the billions. A name that appeared on buildings and scholarship funds and t

mild curiosity, the way someone might exam

ot to Steve. As though Steve were an object being di

yfriend,"

no conversation. No fight. No tearful discussion at two in the morning. Just that word,

ked. He hated himself

ilt was gone. Replaced by something harder.

're going somewhere. You work three jobs and you still can't afford dinner. You're twen

surgical cut. P

tial. I need someone wh

repeated. The wor

m her shoulder to the small of her back. A possessive g

t with anger, though the anger was there, building like pressure behind a dam. He was shaking because the one person he had tr

elieve in you" against his chest in his terrible apartment on his floor mattress at three in the morning. The woman who had kissed

r maybe she had

etly. "And you couldn't

y now. Cold. "I wanted you to understand t

w l

e mon

nety days of lying beside Steve, kissing Steve, telling Steve that she loved hi

th noise. It was the quiet kind of breaking, the kind th

ned to

ve,

some pathetic, bruised part of him still respond

e one I bought you. It look

e sound of a man who had never lost anythi

y eleven steps past the valet stand before his legs gave out and he sat on the curb between a Bentley and a Mercedes, two cars that cost more

hat place beyond tears where the body simply st

uously, a cascade of vibrations that felt

lled

d on her back. Steve's face, pale and gutted, in high-definition clarity. The video was already on Twitter. Already being

ed at Lumière for a

ed. Can you

stly... she's right.

ation, packaged and distributed for entertainment. His worst mome

curb for fort

something permanent. Something that would live in t

irs to his apartment because the elevator had been broken

dollars to his name and absolutely no reason t

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