Broken Strings

C H A P T E R O N E

"Of course I loved him," she says, "you don't give people you don't love the power to destroy you."

- S.Z.

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Anisha slowly pulled herself out of bed. Even waking up and getting out of bed was becoming a harder task day by day.

Her eyes landed on the alarm clock placed on the nightstand. It was already 8:30 AM. Which meant Andrew had already left for work and the kids were already at school.

She had woken up late, again.

Not that anyone cared.

Her husband certainly didn't.

But it didn't matter anymore anyway.

Because she didn't care either.

She slowly reached for her phone, wanting to double-check what time her doctor's appointment was. Her gaze landed on the 5 by 7 photo frame placed on the nightstand. A pathetic laugh escaped her lips and tears slowly slid down her cheeks as she looked at the picture.

It was a family picture, taken at Disneyland, from quite a few years ago.

Anisha held a three-year old Mira in her arms while a seven-year old Ryan stood in front of his father. Andrew was smiling and looking down at Ryan. They looked happy together. She looked happy. She had been happy.

But now, sitting alone on the bed, the Sleeping Beauty Castle in the background mocked her pathetic life and her broken heart.

Wasn't a fairytale ending what every girl wanted? Didn't every girl dream of a prince charming and a promise of a last love lasting love?

Because Anisha certainly did.

But they were considered fairytales for a reason. That she knew now.

Forever was a promise and promises were meant to be broken. After all, Andrew had broken every promise and vow he had made to her. Hadn't he promised her a forever?

He had.

And Anisha had told herself that she wouldn't give her daughter such high expectations of love, such hope of a fairytale ending. Because such expectations and hopes only made the heartbreak more unbearable. It only made the truth more painful.

But already at the age of eight, Mira was already obsessed with glass slippers and Cinderella.

Still, it was the little girl's smile that willed Anisha to pull herself out of bed every fucking morning. It was the hope and love that surrounded her daughter that pushed Anisha to try and gather the strength to fight for another day.

Ryan was a different story. He was too much like his father, far too much like his father.

Already, at the age of twelve, he acted too quickly and pulled away too easily. He got along better with his father than he did with her.

He seemed wary around her, almost as if he too was blaming her for something she had no control over, almost as if he agreed with his father.

But he was growing up and it was only a stage. He knew and understood, at least far better than his little sister did, that his parents weren't happy and were hurting each other. And unlike his sister, he already refused to believe any of the stupid fairytale stories or love bullshit.

His cynical views were amusing, undoubtedly amusing. And Anisha wished she could agree.

It would've saved her heart a lot of pain.

Even if her marriage had done nothing but given her pain and tears, she was thankful for her children.

Ryan and Mira meant the world to her. They were all she could've ever asked for.

It was worth it.

She bit her lip and quickly looked away from the picture.

She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to think of him. Of everything he had to her. Of everything he had done to them.

It had hurt at first.

Who was she lying to? It still fucking hurt, a lot.

He had avoided her, insulted her. He had ruined her.

He had quickly pushed her out of his life as if she hadn't meant anything to him. As if he had never loved her. As if he had never promised her forever.

But it would all be better soon.

He would be happy, without her. That was all she really ever wanted.

He had stopped loving her fourteen years ago. He hadn't touched her after Mira was born. And he certainly wouldn't fight for her.

He just didn't care.

But that was okay. Because she wasn't going to fight for anything anymore anyway.

She stood up slowly. She needed to get ready for her appointment. It was just another day, one filled with anger, heartbreak, pain, love and maybe hope.

She had stopped working five weeks ago. She spent most of her time around the house, reminiscing over memories and crying over empty promises.

Mondays and Thursdays were her doctor's appointments.

Saturdays were Ryan's soccer games. And Sundays were Anisha's favorite days. Because Sundays were only for her and her daughter.

Ryan had soccer practice early on Sundays and sometimes a game. Andrew spent Sundays pampering his mistress with love and money.

And so Anisha got to spend every Sunday morning with her daughter, creating enough memories, memories and moments she hoped would make up for all the ones she would miss out on in the future.

It all hurt. All of it. Everything that had happened to her, everything that had destroyed her marriage, everything he had done to cause her pain, everything that had taken away every bit of happiness from her.

But it still all hurt.

Because she still cared for him. Because she still loved him. And a tiny flicker of hope would encourage her to believe that maybe he did care.

But it didn't really matter anyway. She didn't believe in fairytales anymore.

And besides, there wasn't much left that her heart could endure.