The Honest Truth Dan Gemeinhart Novels & Stories

I gave him a nod signaling him to tell mom the truth. "Mom. . . t-there's something I need to t-tell you," he shuddered. "What is it honey," she said looking puzzled. "You're gonna want to sit down," I said. She dropped her purse on the floor and came to sit next to me on the couch. "Well, I'm waiting," she said. "Uh, you remember Hailee right, Vanessa's friend?" he replied. "Yeah, what about her?" "Um, me and her. . .we've been having. . .s-sex," he muttered.

"Every time you lie. Every time you try to make yourself sound better than you are. Every time you leave something out. I'm going to cut you. Small cuts. Nothing fatal. Just enough to remind you that I know when you're not being honest. Understand?" Daniel nodded slowly. The defiance was still there but it was tempered now with real fear. "Now," I said. "Let's start over. And this time tell me the whole truth. Not the version that makes you look like a businessman making hard choices. The version where you're the monster you actually are." Daniel swallowed hard. When he spoke again his voice was different. Flatter. Like he had finally accepted there was no way out except through the truth.

"He had been carrying it alone for five years. Whatever the letter cost him I was not going to let him pay it alone." Daniel looked at me for a long moment. "He told me something on the phone this week," he said quietly. "He said you are the second person he has ever been completely honest with." I looked at my desk. "He told me that too," I said. "Did he tell you who the first was," Daniel said. "Yes," I said. He nodded. "Then you understand what that means," he said. "From him specifically." "Yes," I said. "I understand what it means."

“I regret not seeing the trap sooner. Someone used me as a scapegoat. The Hart collapse, the others—there was more going on behind the scenes. I’ve been trying to prove it.” “And if you find out you were partly responsible?” I challenged. “Would you admit it? Or would you bury it like everything else?” Damien’s thumb stilled on my hand. “I’d face it. I’m not afraid of the truth. Are you?” I met his eyes. “What if the truth destroys the little peace I’ve managed to rebuild? Some things are better left in the past.” “But the past has a way of coming back,” he said. “Like you. Sitting here across from me, looking at me with eyes I swear I’ve seen before. Tell me honestly, have we met before thi

"But I want you to know I know it happened. And that I'm sorry for the four days of silence. And that knowing you came to the bridge is going to be something I think about for a long time." Daniel held the emergency coffee and looked at the east windows. He thought about what it meant to say I'm not going to promise it won't happen again — the specific honesty of it, the refusal to offer a reassurance that was easy and untrue. He had done the same thing the night before: the fear is not going to disappear. I'm not a finished project. Two imperfect people. The most honest thing. "Thank you for not promising," Daniel said. Adrian looked at him.

The journalists sensed it immediately: this was no ordinary interview. The lead reporter, a woman with quick thinking eyes, sat face to face with him. “Principal Adrian, the city is reeling from Daniel Damien’s revelation. He claims to have lost a son named Henry. Why have you chosen to speak today?” Adrian folded his hands on the table. “Because truth must not be left half-spoken. Daniel Damien has revealed his pain, yes. But he has also revealed his absence. While he searched—or claims to have searched—others have lived with the reality. Henry has lived with it. And so have I.”

Some may be handsome, polite not so much. I could not help but also put a smile. "Hey, how much is a ticket to some city close here." "Oh Are you a first-timer here." "Yes. How do you know?" It unexpectedly became a long talk. I ended up not going anywhere. We exchanged names and phone numbers but couldn't risk letting out the address.

, he muttered to himself as he headed towards the window, leaving the two boys behind in full of confusion. "So, tell me now. What is it?", Jae-eun asked me as we grabbed our seats after receiving our americanos. "Well, the thing is, How is your practice going on?", I felt embarrassed for lying but here I was. I wondered why I was this bad at lying. "Hmm? So this is that important thing you wanted to discuss with me?", Jae-eun inquired. It seemed so stupid. We both knew it too well that this was not a suitable conversation she would like to have while she was here to visit her injured brother.

The last color of our rainbows, the missing piece of our songs, the one who'll complete our untold stories. This is not just the right time... "Mr. Timothy Kim, what can you say about this issue that you're drinking alcohol that night?" the conference hall went silent and they just waited Timothy's answer, like they're craving for it. "No, I'm not. Those are just rumors. I went to that convenience store to buy some of my favorite drinks. I just want to make it clear everything. Not all you see is the truth, and not all the words you hear about me, about the Metamorphosis are real. To all our fans out there... please, believe in us." He said in front of the media and reporters.