Things Left Unsaid Book Novels & Stories

“Don’t.” I tilted my head. “Don’t what?” I asked, careful. “Don’t read into it,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. The casualness of his posture was disarming, but not quite convincing. My internal radar, trained to pick up micro-expressions and subtext, screamed that something had been unsaid. I swallowed. “It looked… important.”

"And the fact that I'd written you into a two-word email once, and you'd written back. Two words. They were evidence that the thing I'd lost hadn't entirely gone. Evidence that there was still something on the other side of it." He was quiet for a moment, something moving across his face. "What did I write back?" he asked, though she suspected he already knew. "Page twelve," she said. "Nothing in the heart is wasted," Adrian said quietly. "No," Sophia said. "Nothing is." They stood together in the quiet kitchen, the birthday behind them, the ordinary evening settling around them, and Sophia felt the particular satisfaction of having finally said something she'd carried privately for years —

He was quiet for a long moment. Ernest came to the kitchen. He stood by the table. He did not ask. He waited. Don said: "She says the book gave her the language for something she had been living for twenty years." "Yes," Ernest said. "She was a child in a house where something happened that no one named. She grew up with the knowledge of something but no words for it. She has lived all her adult life with the feeling that something inside her was keeping an account that she could not read." Don looked at the letter. "And she read the last chapter and understood that the account the thing keeps is not the same as the account you have of the thing. That the unreadable account is still being ke

Had said it once three weeks ago without explanation and had been saying it since with the quiet certainty of a man who had decided something and saw no reason to revise it. He was right. He didn't know why he was right. I was going to tell him. I had been going to tell him for six weeks. Every time I opened my mouth something closed it again not fear exactly, something more complex than fear. The knowledge that the telling would change everything and the wanting to hold the thing that existed right now for just a little longer before it became something else. "Before he arrives," I said. "Yes." I picked up my fork. Filed the weight of the unsaid thing where I kept all the important things.

Whatever it was, he seemed far less confused than I felt. The air between us was heavy, as if charged with static. For a moment, I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a revelation, something that would connect all the dots and make sense of the tangled mess my life had become. But then it slipped away, leaving me standing there, book in hand, filled with questions and absolutely no answers. Professor Gray finally broke the silence. "You may find more than you're bargaining for in that book, Lexi. Be careful."

“Unless you can find a way to switch it off.” “Why did this happen?” I asked. “Why me?” “What exactly did you see?” Marcus asked. He seemed to be the only one interested in my predicament. “The beginning and the end,” I replied. “That makes no sense” Kieran replied gruffly. I sighed. “And you think it does to me?” I asked in anger. “I think I understand it now,” Dominic said and began to pace around. “The Book is called the Book of Untold Story. So,what if all you saw were stories that have not happened yet. Possibilities, like Marcus said.”

“Yes?” “I was looking for a book earlier,” she said. “In here.” I waited. “I didn’t find it.” The lie wasn’t in the words. It was in the pause after. I leaned back and finally faced her. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed loosely, casual in the way people are when they’re braced for impact. “What book?” I asked. “One my mother mentioned once.” There it was. “She didn’t leave much behind,” I said. “That’s what I thought too,” Olivia replied. “But then I wondered if maybe she left something she didn’t want me to find.”

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And somehow, that promise doesn’t scare me. The world should fear Damian Bernardi. But me? I never have. Because I know, I’m the only thing he will never destroy. End of Unspoken Promises…. Please let me know what you think….. Book Two - Unspoken Truths - Coming Soon

“It’s lik‍e he left this… m‍ess. This unfinished thing‌. And I’‍m suppos‌ed to clean i⁠t up, but I⁠ don’t have al⁠l the piec⁠es. Some of them⁠ are jus‌t…‍ gone. Locked⁠ away‍ some‌where.” I was talking about the safety deposit box. About the‌ pro‍of. I was talki⁠ng in code, right to t‌he man who might have helped hide it. ⁠ “Ah,” he said. He got quiet for a‍ secon‌d⁠. “Grief is like‍ that. It‍ leaves loose ends. Things that don’t make sense. Doors you can’t open.”