Novel & Cerita The Truth Hurts Book

I hadn't backed out just for that bastard to bully her. I leveraged all my connections and finally found out the truth. I revealed the truth publicly and gave Summer the justice she deserved. Then, I took her away and encouraged her to continue seeking treatment for her arm. I also encouraged her to pick up painting again. She was a talented artist. Her talents should not be wasted just like that. Now, she was my wife. I loved Summer. I hoped she would be able to spend the rest of her life free and happy, live on her own terms, and bloom as brilliantly as a rose in the summer.

I awake with a cry and a fierce burning in my cheek. I can’t make sense of much for a while, just that my face bounces off the seat of a vehicle, each impact sends shooting pains that fill my eyes with tears and steal my breath. I can feel my blood, as it clings to my neck, feel it soaking the tie-dye shirt I wore to school. I try to understand what is happening. Why it’s dark and I hurt so badly and where I am. But when I do, when it comes flooding back in jagged pieces, sharp enough to cut, I long to close my eyes again and make it all go away. The truth hurts so much worse than the pain tearing at my face. Then the memory of the monster striking me with his claws. I slowly touch my cheek,

The afternoon sun streams through the window, but the room feels cold. Ethan is still holding me. His arms are still tight. His heart is still racing. His breath is shallow. His hands are shaking. His whole body is trembling. His soul is bleeding. His world is crumbling. His life is falling apart. His truth is pouring out. "The truth hurts," he says. "What truth? What are you talking about? What truth could possibly hurt more than everything we've already been through?"

If her teammate hadn't shielded her from the blast, she would have died on the spot. "Back then, you lay in the warehouse, covered in blood and trapped by the flames. I was the one who risked my life dragging you out of the fire! "I also took a bullet for you during the evacuation. That's why my heart hasn't been the same ever since!" Christopher's voice rose a few notches before cracking with emotion. "Victor and Oliver set that trap from the very beginning. Gabriella, you can't forget what he did just because time has passed. Don't let him fool you."

"You’re not supposed to fight for one against the other. You're here to fight for both. For your family. For truth." He shook his head. “Truth has destroyed us, Natalie. What good is it?” "Truth doesn't destroy," I declared with certainty. "Secrets will. Lies will. Truth will hurt, yes, but truth can also heal, if you are bold enough to face it," He looked at me then, his gaze searching mine, as if he found courage in me that he no longer had in him and I gave it to him with every word.

That night,I stood by the window, watching the city flicker like fireflies caught between heaven and earth. The child wasn't his,but the damage was already done. I reached for my journal. “Truth doesn't come with comfort. It confirms what you fear the most. People choose to believe you only when they break you. I dropped my pen and closed my journal. I would heal. Not for him. Not for Ava. Not for revenge. But for myself. AVA I threw the wine glass against the wall. It shattered like the illusion I'd tried so hard to build and live in.

As she always says, the truth hurts. "Let the reality slap you, even if it hurts. Because if you will keep yourself clueless and blind by the truth, you'll get hurt even more, and you will be crushed slowly." She said that one time we were talking about her being the savage queen. And I agree with her belief. That even if reality sucks, we should let it slap us, and face it. Because if we will keep ourselves clueless and blind, we would just end up being broken than ever.

Dear Readers, As we close the final chapter of *Tangled Truths*, I find myself filled with gratitude and emotion. This journey with Lucas and Flora—from adversaries to soulmates, through betrayal and redemption, death and rebirth—has been an extraordinary one to share with you. Your messages, comments, and unwavering support have meant everything to me throughout this series.

Fuck. She looked like fire and elegance wrapped in gold. Her dress caught the light with every movement, fluid and commanding. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had broken free, curling around her face like they had minds of their own. Her heels clicked against the polished floor, unapologetic and sure. The room went quiet. And then she began. “I didn’t write this book to tell a love story,” she said, voice steady, sure. “Not the kind that ends in roses and rainbows. I wrote it to tell the truth—about trauma, about betrayal, about choosing someone even after the damage.”

When everything was finally okay… why did the truth have to come like a storm? Why us? I want to scream. Tear the world apart with my bare hands. Because how can something so beautiful become so broken? How do you mourn someone who’s still alive… and worse, still in love with you? I pull my knees to my chest, trying to hold onto something real, something solid. But everything slips through. Everything burns. For a long time, I don’t move. I just let it hurt. Let it break me. Let it hollow me out. Then—