The Truth Hurts Book Novels & Stories

"The doctors said not to overwhelm you—" "Please." I grab his hand, this stranger who loves some version of me that no longer exists. "I need to know if you've ever heard of Marcus Henderson. Or Catherine Lewis. Or a little girl named Truth." His expression shifts to genuine alarm. "Sophie, you're scaring me. Those are characters from your book." "My... book?" Jacob reaches for a tablet on the bedside table, tapping the screen before turning it toward me. I stare in disbelief at the cover displayed: "His Forbidden Truth" by Sophia Winters. My name—or some version of it—attached to a fiction that mirrors my reality.

CHAPTER 21 I slowly opened my eyes and the first thing that I saw were the white curtains, white ceiling and windows. My mouth opened and my heartbeat suddenly started to beat faster. I touched my head and felt relaxed when I felt no bandage placed in there. I suddenly remembered all that had happened. My tears flowed and I couldn’t help but to cry uncontrollably. I touched my chest and I feel the pain inside. I closed my eyes… How can they do this to me?! To lie to me? How could they believe that I am Lee Shin Jin when my real name is Lucky Shen. I bit my lower lip just to hold the pain that I have felt right now. It hurts me!

She'd flipped it to a clean page. She wrote his name at the top: *Damien Hawthorne.* Then she started reading. There was a lot of him online. That was the thing about men like him — they became public property before they noticed it happening. Interviews. Profiles. A Forbes cover from three years back where he was photographed at a window, the city behind him, looking like someone who had already decided he would be on that cover one day and the universe had simply caught up. She read his Wikipedia page twice, then read the criticism section on the third tab she'd opened — there was always a criticism section.

"Then let's start tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to hold you." She rests her head on my shoulder. "Okay," she whispers. "Okay." --- I wanted an apology. I got the truth. And the truth — messy and complicated and painful — is somehow more valuable than any apology could have been. Because the truth is where we start. The truth is where we heal. The truth is where we learn to trust again. End of Chapter 122

Jocelyn wiped her tears and pulled Sean tightly into her arms. I recorded the entire livestream. Only now did I realize how influential money really was. It could make someone who once cared more about her pride than survival go online and cry for sympathy.

Hellem hiccuped, trying to scour away the tears from her eyes. “Ooh, no, Hellen! I am being pretty fair here by stating facts. It is not my fault that you are a victim of the phrase the truth hurts.” Ejay added more salt to the injury. “The only truth that you want to cling to, Ejay,. Because you want to paint me black and prove yourself right. You wouldn’t be here if it were not for me!” Hellen fired back.

"In any war, truth is the first victim. Can you not see that? Could she not see it?" "Can you deny that Tina Davis was murdered because she was testing lies that reinforced the war struggle recovering than the facts would have done?" "I am saying," the Home Secretary said, "that the disparity between truth and lies is immaterial in time of war. True or false? Right or wrong? These questions are inconsequential now. It's all down to allegiance. Are you with us or against us? Surely you of can see that." "And anyone who isn't with you?" "-- is with the guerrillas and must be removed!" said the Home Secretary.

They had let me think the worst of them all this time, just so that I wouldn't suffer the weight of these memories. But surviving was not enough, I wanted to live and I would only achieve that by knowing the truth. And the truth was liberating. I no longer felt guilty for feeling the way I did about three different people, but I felt so many inconsistent and unreasonable things. I lost myself in Logan's grey gaze, the sparkle in his eyes, the calmness of his expression, -I... He put his finger on my mouth, “Okay.”

Blood ran over her carved name. The plaza erupted. Needles pierced deeper. The memory unfolded before thousands. The truth I had buried for two years finally crawled toward the light.

On the night before my wedding, the bridal party is too excited to sleep, so someone suggests a game of anonymous confessions. Everyone writes down one thing they want to say to me, the groom-to-be. I eagerly close my eyes, expecting heartfelt wishes and congratulations, but the first note stuns me. "You bastard. If you weren't forcing my sister to marry you, Lyle would be my brother-in-law!" Lyle Thomas is my best friend. Just three hours earlier, he called to apologize, saying a last-minute business trip had come up and he couldn't make it to the wedding. My hands tremble as I continue reading. "That watch she gave you as a wedding present is one Lyle turned down. He said it looked ch