The Lies Between Us Novels & Stories

“One, I love video games. Two, I once pushed a stranger in a pool. Three, I love pickles. Which one’s the lie?’ he said and we started guessing. “You love pickles is the lie,” I spoke first. “I agree with Muff,” Michane followed and next was Krys who also agreed. “Bro, we know you. You could easily push somebody off even on a cliff.” We all laughed at what Levine said. “Okay, I’m next. One, I know how to dance. Two, I have three siblings. Three, I forget a lot about birthdays,” Krysyle said, making our brows furrow. “There’s literally no lie there, Krysyle Verlice,” I answered. “There is!” she exclaimed. “I’m guessing she knows how to dance is a lie,” Clint answered, making me do a facepalm.

“The diary was at my house. All the answers Edgar needed were in there. Yesterday I went to see him. I went into a perfume store and slipped out through another exit.” She looked back up. “It was quick.” A pause. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have allowed it. And I know how angry you were with him. I don’t blame you.” Liam exhaled slowly. “Love... I understand your intentions,” he said more calmly. “Your romantic side.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I don’t want lies between us. You know how I am. Even a lie told for a good reason can tear a couple apart.”

I started, placing one hand on her shoulder to show temporary comfort. "I'll tell you about something called the almadate. My friend Luke, the tall one you must have seen with me on news, he invented it as a temporary means against the liar gas so when you told me you found out I was bisexual, the only way to protect myself was to lie." I sighed, moving further up the bed, drawing my knees to my chest and leaning my elbow against them. "But that's the same thing as lesbianism." She pointed out, a disapproving look on her face.

Finally his eyes settled on me. "Your room's still the same." He murmured. I smiled and nodded because I couldn't think of anything to say. "So what were you doing?" He asked casually. "Nothing just studying." I lied. For some reason I didn't want to tell him about Megan's emails, they were just too personal. He nodded distractedly. "I want to take you somewhere." He said suddenly. "Now?" I asked in surprise. "Do you trust me, Bambi?" He asked seriously.

All of it. Every lie. Every truth. Every moment in between. It all led here. To this. To us. End of Chapter 120

He doesn’t say anything, but his presence is the only thing keeping me from falling apart. When Sabrina starts lying, really lying, my stomach twists so hard I have to grip the arm of the chair. And then she says it. The baby. The lie so big it feels like the air is sucked out of the room. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t... Evan’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing once. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We knew she’d go low.” But not that low. The PR team signals him. It’s time.

Some lies can really hurt people. Then some lies are so well planned that they make it impossible to know what is true. Selena was just starting to understand that Marcus had not just lied to her five years ago. He had completely changed the way she saw things so much that she had spent half a decade living in the world he had created. The email was still on her phone screen as she sat in a hotel room in London. Protocol 7B Authorization Chain. Suppression Log – April 18.

I cut him off, pointing out, "You may not know, but you touch your earlobe when you lie." His hand hung in mid-air, then dropped as he tried to pull me close. "It's not what you think. I can explain." I pulled up the video and shoved it to his face. "This is why you bailed on me seven times, right?" I looked him in the eye. He held me, flustered. "I had my reasons." I waited for him to continue, curious about the reasons that had pushed him to marry Vivian behind my back and lie for three years.

I sat in the living room tonight with the light off, just listening to the wind. And for the first time since his passing, I smiled. Not because I was healed. But because I remembered us—before the lies, before the heartbreak, before life pulled us apart. I remembered the man who whispered my name like a promise. Noah’s POV I had the dream again. We were on the porch. Him. Me. Two glasses of scotch. One truth between us. He was telling me about a woman—how her laugh could stop time, how her eyes silenced his doubts. He didn’t know he was talking about my mother.

A gratitude that was a terrifying liability, a weight she had no right to carry. And then, there was hope. A flicker of hope, a fragile, terrifying thing she had no right to feel. The memory of his hand on her cheek, his face so close to hers, his eyes so filled with a profound, unshielded humanity. It was a lie. It had to be. But it felt so real. It felt so beautiful. It felt like a promise of a future she had no right to hope for.