Something She's Not Telling Us: A Novel Novels & Stories

I’d been halfway through packing for our next move when she came into my room holding a mug of coffee and smiling in that weird, nervous way she only did when she’d already made up her mind about something I wouldn’t like. “Liam,” she said softly, “I need to tell you something.” I remember the way she hesitated before setting the mug down on my desk, like the coffee was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking. “I met someone.” That wasn’t unusual. She’d gone on dates before—mostly the polite, quiet type of dates that fizzled out before I even learned the guy’s name. But then she said, “His name’s Emerson Novak.” Novak. Even then, that name sounded ancient, like it carried too much hist

NOVA Mina's smile falters, and for the first time, I notice the faint tremor in her hands. "You're not going to tell me?" she asks quietly. "Nope." I pop the 'p' casually, brushing my fingers over the cracked leather of a nearby book spine. "Some people just don't share their dirty laundry with strangers holding knives." She exhales through her nose, but it’s not because she’s annoyed, but mostly because she’s... defeated?

I had wanted to see her suffering and nothing else because how can someone live a happy life after what those people did? I was not prepared for what I actually saw lil sis. I don't know if it would be a good idea or a bad one if you find out what she became once leaving that hell hole. The choice is yours lil sis. If you want to say fuck that woman and rather not know anything about her, you can skip this letter. You have the choice on this one if you want to come back to it later on. I did inform Alex on this being the only exceptional skip. The others are not.

I liked my routines because they were mine. And yet, somehow, none of that ever seemed to count. Inside the house, another burst of laughter erupted, louder this time, infectious. It sounded like it belonged to another version of me. A parallel-universe Ellie who had followed the script more closely. The one who had brought someone home, who fit neatly into the glowing windows and shared jokes and collective warmth. I wondered what she was like. Happier? Or just better at playing the part? I pulled my phone from my pocket, more out of reflex than intention, and checked the screen. Nothing. No new messages. No missed calls. No notifications trying to pull me back into anyone else’s orbit.

The library, with its smell of old leather and wisdom, felt like a courtroom. William didn’t sit. He stood before the fireplace, his back to them, then turned. His face was not angry. It was terrifyingly cold. “A betrayal has occurred,” he began, his voice cutting the silence. “Not a corporate leak. A personal one. Details of my wife’s private life, her health, her schedule, observed within these walls, have been sold to the media.” A collective intake of breath. Lara’s hand flew to her mouth. Tunde’s eyes hardened.

“To the bride and the groom. Here’s to our new start.” Fireworks lit the sky above our heads, and the day was everything I could ask for. A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Thank you so much for reading Resisting Her. It took me a lot of time to get this book out since the release of the Getting Over Him in January 2019 because of some personal issues that threw me off balance. This story is so close to my heart, because this is so relatable to my personal life, excluding fictional twists to keep you entertained, while the core remains betrayal and moving on. Check out Getting Over Him, which is written in Arianna’s POV if you haven’t read it yet.

I can't find anything else about her, but she must work at a company in Houston, as she lives at. - I know where she lives. - You are an idiot. If you knew, you could have told me, and I would have started from there. - the irritated assistant says. - Send me a photo from her yearbook. - It's in your email already. Haven't you discovered anything else? - There's nothing left to discover. It seems like deleted information to me. Or just someone with a very... very low profile. Someone who doesn't like social networks. Who is this girl?

"On my terms. Framed by me. Not dropped as an allegation but offered as what it actually is." "What is it actually?" She considered it. "An impossible thing that happened to a woman who had been given nothing and used it to build something. Whether people believe it literally or read it as a way of describing the death of her old self and the start of a new one, the story is true either way." I sat with that. "Who is the journalist?" I said. “I have someone in mind," she said. "I need forty-eight hours." “You have whatever you need," I said.

“That we didn’t want that.” She said it very simply, like it was obvious. “So it didn’t happen.” I looked back out the window. “That’s nice.” But she didn’t stop talking. Honestly, she sounded like she was narrating a movie trailer. “It could’ve been a great story though,” she continued. “Two strong personalities forced into a relationship they didn’t choose—” “Everista.” “Yes?” “Shut up.” She laughed again. “You’re not interested in the plot?” “I’m not interested in your past with Alex or whoever.”

It's been in my email for a few days and I'm also just waiting for Miles to come to me but she seems shy. I smiled. I got up from where I was sitting and headed to the terrace because I knew Miles was there. I saw her sitting on an empty chair on the terrace and the stress on his face was obvious because of the mess. "I received an email from the publication about the interview, when do you want to do it?" Miles turned to me in shock but I immediately looked away from her. "Huh?" "Don't you want to, Miles?" "No! I mean, now...if it's okay with you," she said in disbelief.