Voting for week two is now completed. Yours truly survived another week (seventh out of forty-one) with the following entry on the assigned topic, “Broken.”

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He wasn’t surprised to hear the knock on his door, even though it was nearly midnight. He’d been expecting it for almost a month, half hoping each night that she’d work up the nerve so they could just get it over with.

She looked almost regal, standing there on his battered porch, dripping with wealth. She’d even had the audacity to wear her gaudy diamond wedding ring. He wasn’t irritated by it, though. It seemed fitting. She’d come here to proposition him, but she still needed to keep him in his place.

Finally she spoke. “I understand you’re finished with remodeling our kitchen.”

He nodded.

“I suppose that means we won’t be seeing you at the house again anytime soon.”

He nodded again, not giving her so much as a smile. If she wanted him, she’d have to come out with it. So she pressed on, annoyed, but too desperate to walk away.

“I…heard your girlfriend left you.”

It was actually the other way around, but he didn’t correct her. It didn’t matter. The result was the same. He was still left with nothing but a bruised ego, an empty heart, and something to prove.

And this rich, beautiful woman had knocked on his door, begging him to prove it.

But he’d been with this kind of woman before. She’d wasted her youth on a man who would toss her aside when Youth was gone. She knew it. And now she was empty, just like him. She practically reeked of it.

I need. I want. Give me.

Because she had nothing left to give.

Neither did he. So he closed the door without a word. Because he wasn’t that broken. Not yet.