Broken Strings

C H A P T E R N I N E

It wasn't worth fighting for because they both would be fighting to save nothing. There was nothing there. Nothing to be saved.

She couldn't give him hope. He needed to move on, to forget about her and their broken marriage.

She couldn't be saved. She was letting things go, no longer holding onto any hope. She had accepted it all. This was it.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She wasn't beautiful. She was never that special. Average. She was average. With dark brown eyes and black hair, a light skin tone and soft Indian features. She was average.

She was easily forgotten about. She wasn't the kind of girl people quickly noticed. She was shy, at first. She was observant and curious. She was kind, too kind and she let people walk over her. She was naïve and always saw the good in people. She was too forgiving, still willing to give the ones who had broken her a second chance. She wasn't insecure but then she wasn't too confident either.

Average, that's all she ever was.

And she was never the kind of girl guys like Andrew went after. It was only time that he got tired of her.

Even in college, she had always been the girl who sat in the front, quietly, and scribbled away every word the professor was saying. She spent her Friday's reading a new book or baking cookies. And her Sunday's stressing over the next exam.

She was average. She was happy. She was enough.

She still dated here and there but never found anything special.

Until Andrew. It was always him. He was so different from her, he was confident and smart. He was the kind of guy everyone wanted to be around, the kind of person whose name people would remember.

He was everything she wasn't.

But no one could ever make her feel as special and wanted as he once did. Still did.

The way he could take away her breath with a smile or the way he would hold her in his arms, letting her forget about the cold world around her. The way he looked at her, making her stomach dance with butterflies.

He smeared her lipstick. And her mascara.

And she hated it so fucking much. She hated how he could make her feel so good one minute and utterly useless and unwanted the next.

And that was she wouldn't let him kiss her anywhere. There was nothing there anymore.

It was simple: they just weren't meant to last. And that was reality. No matter how much she loved him, the truth was the truth and their marriage wasn't one that lasted forever. That's just the way it was.

There was nothing left to hold onto.

Amanda was the type of woman he should've married. Confident, beautiful, smart, happy and lovable.

Anisha was never that girl and would probably never be. She was and always would the kind and nice girl, the girl who gave in too easily and always put other people before herself. And despite all this, she would never be enough.

She gently wiped the tears, taking the Kleenex to fix her mascara-stained face.

Her finger lingered on her lips. Did he really want to try and save their marriage?

A harsh gasp escaped her lips as she grabbed the counter for support, sharp pains pinching her body.

There was nothing to save, he couldn't save her nor their marriage. She couldn't let him kiss her.