Baca The Real Reason Novels & Stories

Create logic that no one can reject. Not ever again. Beg for a place to be understood. Humble is being kind. Humble is not to beg right away. Get yourself accepted by your mind, by your deeds. Not any other way. Not any other way. You put reasons in your mind. Think better each day. You improve. That’s sports for you. Play it each day. No other sports playing or watching is real in any way. Amen. You do not count your words. You value them. You say. You speak to be heard. Don’t beg for a better place in hearts. You win your space. You win your place.

Why couldn't my life be the way I wanted it to be for once? I searched my song list for anything pleasing to my ears. I ended playing That's me by Abba. The song was nice but it didn't fit what my ears wanted to hear at that time so I kept scrolling through the list. My thumb lingered over Be Real by Kid Ink featuring Dej Loaf. I itched to listen to it again but my thumb refused to obey. As much as I loved the song, listening to it would bring me heartache. It reminded me of a certain hypocrite in my life.

The host asked Brian, who was completely out of words to utter. “Well, Emily came up to me one day and said that she had decided to be with Richard”, Brian dropped and again, the host’s lips dropped in shock. “Her reason was that Richard was more popular than I am, and she wanted to be famous too. She wanted the world to know her, and that would never be achievable if she is with me. You know, I’m a secret person”, Brian said, beginning to regret why he had to come and film a stupid video session with Barbara.

"Your turn to ask me." He looked at me. Something in his expression that was careful and interested at the same time. "Why did you really apply for the arrangement," he said. "The real reason. Not the one you tell people." I looked at the flowers. "I told you about my mother," I said. "You told me the practical reason," he said. "I asked for the real one." I was quiet for a moment.

The real reason. He looked at the question for a long time. Then he typed: Because women from my world come with their own agendas, their own networks, their own families who have interests that conflict with mine. You come from outside all of that. You have no leverage against me and no reason to manufacture any. And because the qualities that most people would see as your disadvantages — the deafness, the isolation, the limited social presence — are, for what I need, advantages. I am not choosing you despite what you are. I am choosing you because of it.

In an instant, flesh tore open, and blood began pouring down his arm. Before I could even process what he was doing, he bolted out the front door while screaming, "Help! She's trying to kill me!" His desperate cries immediately brought the neighbors crowding into the hallway, throwing bewildered glances our way. A well-meaning neighbor called out, "Robert, what happened?" Robert instantly squeezed out a couple of tears, spinning a wild web of lies on the spot. "It's my ex-wife! She has mental issues. She's always paranoid, constantly accusing me of cheating on her with other women.

“Running away, Firecracker?” I scowled. “I’m not running away.” His smirk deepened. “Right.” I crossed my arms. “What do you want?” He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. My pulse spiked. “I want to know why you did it,” he said, voice low. I swallowed. There were a lot of reasons. Anger. Frustration. Spite. But none of those were the real reason. I lifted my chin. “Because I wanted to.”

“I could ask you the same thing. Although I think we both know this sudden infatuation with the fireman is the real reason you are, " “Do you want to know the real reason?” she asked hotly, cutting him off. “And it’s one that hasn’t got anything to do with me wanting my own life, or Bobby, or anything else.” His gaze locked with hers. “Please…enlighten me.” Allena pushed back her shoulders and expelled a long breath. “It’s because it’s just too hard to be around you anymore!”

He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, like a predator deciding whether to strike or retreat. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he said softly. "But I did," I snapped, stepping into the room until I was standing right in front of the desk. I slammed my hands down on the mahogany surface, leaning toward him. "Who am I hiding from, Elias? What is the 'real' reason I’m here? And don't you dare give me some corporate excuse about leverage or assets. I want the truth. My father, my family, the bankruptcy—it was all fake, wasn't it?"

"I want you to stop carrying a secret that he deserves to know the truth about." "And I will. Just not tonight." "But you said when he comes." Something shifts in his expression. "Stella—" "Don't Stella me, you said that last month," I remind him, quieter this time, which is worse than saying it louder and we both know it. "There is always a reason with you. Always a factor. Always something that makes right now the wrong moment." I hold his gaze. "At what point does the reason become the excuse?" His jaw shifts.