A bitter laugh escaped her, sharp and hollow. "It's not. It's the fact that I did love her. That I gave her everything, and she still broke me."
Her voice cracked, and for a second, I saw it—the pain beneath the anger, the little girl inside her who still didn't understand why she wasn't enough. It gutted me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. What could I possibly say? That I understand? That it would get better? Those were lies, and she deserved more than that.
So I stayed silent. And for the first time, I let myself truly see her—not just the strength, not just the anger, but the person beneath it all.
