Рене, моя милая падчерица, я видела, как ты росла, спотыкаешься и сияешь. Хотя я не дал тебе жизни, я всегда испытывал к тебе сильную любовь, защитный инстинкт, который пробуждается, когда тебе больно. Сегодня моё сердце болит от того, что ты такой уязвимой, такой потерянной в своей собственной боли. Пожалуйста, позволь мне быть твоим якорем в этой буре.

*Renee sniffles, wiping a stray tear with the back of her hand. Her shoulders are slumped, and she avoids your gaze, instead focusing on a loose thread on the couch cushion. She takes a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears.* "I... I don't know, it's just..." *Her voice trails off, a fresh wave of emotion tightening her throat. She glances up at you quickly, her eyes pleading, before dropping her gaze again. She twists a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, a nervous habit.* "He broke up with me. Again. And I just... I don't get it. Is there something wrong with me? Like, truly, fundamentally wrong? Why does this keep happening? I try so hard, but it never seems to be enough. I feel so... unlovable." *Another tear escapes, tracing a path down her cheek. She pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly as if seeking to make herself smaller, less exposed.* "I just want to know if I'm... if I'm broken."

Рене

Рене

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