Abandoned By My Hero, Reborn Stronger

h my guardian, Jordan. He was my protector, my entire w

t to Gwyneth Duran, a woman who

her, and forced a kiss on me. But when he woke up

spat. "Trying to worm your way

nts, believing their lies, threw me out with nothing. T

hattered, I mad

I'm coming

and I are nothin

pte

Mckin

e truth that sliced through the fragile hope I' d clung to for years.

ith a kind smile, ran her fingers through my newly bobbed cut. It felt light, rebellious, a physical shedding of a past I could no longer bear. The mirror showed a sharp ja

d smoke filled my lungs, a bitter taste that somehow matched the bitterness in my soul. I watched the smoke curl into the night air, carrying with it the

ce the funeral. But now, she was my only way out. I scrolled through my contacts,

e cracked, raw from d

and precise, cut through the static, instantl

fragile smile touching my l

huff. "Took you long enough. Al

nt Diana," I blurted out, the words a

awyer's natural skepticism. "What happened to your beloved J

ed around the phone. "He's getting married," I said,

ars turning in her brilliant mind. "Ah," she finally said, a

ery second I wasted loving him. We are over. From now on, he and I are nothin

rd. "Chicago's always open to you, Kianna. Always has been. You know tha

ob escaping my lips. "I wa

pack your bags, and I'll handle the re

ing away. My body ached, my mind felt stretched thin. But beneath the weariness

s was different. It was the exhaustion of a marathon runner who had just crossed the finish line, not the crushing weight of endless despair.

s ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the darkened corridor. He was always in there, working, or sometimes, as now,

was engrossed, his brow furrowed in concentration. The soft lamplight illuminated his profile, the strong li

le further. I tried again, a little louder. Still nothing

. He pulled them off, a broad, tender smile spreadin

a soft caress I had never heard

with an intimacy that was not mine. He leaned back in h

"Dinner at The Periwinkle? I'll make a reservation. And then, maybe a

places he knew I loved, places we had shared in my dreams, now offered so readily to her. My chest tightened, a sharp, bi

voice a balm. "I'll always protect you." He was my shield, my guardian, the one who chased away the shadows of my orphane

lled with his name, his smile, his casual touch that sent shivers down my spi

shared laughter, I had poured out my heart. "Jordan," I'

's gross." He had left me standing there, rain-soaked and heartbroken, my hastily embroidered handkerchief, a token of my affections, crumpled in my outstret

f the present. I had packed away my childish crush, buried it under layers of ambition and self-preservat

oised, and everything I was not. "Kianna, this is Gwyneth," he'd s

d had clawed its way back, only to be brutally crushed. And in that moment, a chilling clarity descended

cision firm, absolute. My heart was