Unspoken Reason Novels & Stories

"If he had just held on and been patient, maybe Ruby would have come back to him. I think he just got too jealous and went down a dark path. That can be dangerous." "However, I bet he's really regretting it now." As I went to the office to say goodbye for good, I overheard whispers in the break room. I stopped in my tracks, stepped closer, and said to the whisperer, "I have no regrets. "If you're scared, next time you can just hide like a scaredy-cat." I have always believed that the good guys get protected and the bad guys get what's coming to them. The guy I snapped at turned all shades of red and white, too flustered to get his words out.

“That has to be a secret. It’s the surprise I’ll tell George myself.” My calm indifference drove Josie crazier than any hysteria could. It made her look like a clown. She tore off her disguise, snapping to her feet and pointing at my nose and screaming, “You didn’t forget at all! You did it on purpose! George doesn’t love you! He stays by your side only because of your dead father and the child you lost!”

“Because I don’t like the way it sounds.” “That’s not a reason to ignore it.” “It is when the alternative is pretending this is normal.” “It was never going to be normal,” he says. “I know that.” “Then stop acting surprised.” I let out a frustrated breath, turning away from him before this turns into another argument we don’t have time for. “This isn’t surprise,” I say. “This is me trying to figure out why the spell would anchor to me.” “Maybe it didn’t,” he says. I pause.

Something that lived only in a moment, unrecorded, the kind of detail nobody bothers passing along because it seems like nothing. "The night before I left," I said. "You were upset with me. You said something to me that you've been carrying since, because you think it's the reason I was gone. I know what you said. I know exactly what it was, and I know it wasn't the reason, and I know you've never told anyone the actual words. Not Dr. Fisher. Not your dad. I'm not going to say them out loud to prove I know them, because that's not mine to use as a parlor trick. But I know. And it was never your fault. It was never close to your fault."

Stepping once more onto the streets of Westbridge, a storm of emotions surged through me. A little inquiry was all it took to learn that Adrian had drowned himself in grief, consumed by the belief he had lost the love of his life. He neglected the Foster Group entirely, and even he and Chloe had grown hollow and estranged. I laughed coldly. If Adrian had ever cared enough, how could he not have noticed that the corpse was not me? If even a shred of conscience had remained in him, would my child have been reduced to nothing more than a pool of blood?

And I hated that I wasn’t. When the new drink arrived, I just stared at it. Didn’t drink. Didn’t talk. Just listened to the noise until it started to blur. Max broke the silence first. “You know, if you ever need to talk—” “I don’t,” I said automatically. He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Mr. Untouchable.” “Not untouchable,” I muttered. “Just… not sure who I want touching.” He snorted. “That sounds like a crisis.”

She could barely process who it was, when a voice came through. “Is there a reason you're interested in things that don't concern you?”.

Then you know we need her. He'd hung up. I hadn't slept since. The thing was,and this was the part I couldn't say out loud, the part that had lived in my chest like something swallowed sideways for two years now,the thing was that I had a reason for my position that had nothing to do with what everyone was going to assume. Not the obvious reason. Not the one the campus paper would run on page three with a photo pulled from her junior season. A real reason. A specific one. One that had a name attached to it, a date, and a newspaper article I'd read until the fold lines went soft.

He blinked. "...No?" "I declined." "You declined?" "I haven't sent the reply yet." "But I will." Lucas slowly placed the invitation on the table. "Why?" I shrugged. "It isn't my world." He folded his arms. "That's not an answer." "It is." "No." His voice remained calm. "Tell me the real reason." Silence settled between us. I busied myself arranging plates. Lucas waited. Eventually, I whispered, "I don't have anything to wear."

“I am not trying to defend what I did, I am explaining it. There is a big difference.” He watched me. “What is the difference?” he asked. “A defense tries to say what happened was okay,” I explained. “An explanation just tells what happened and why. It does not claim the reason makes it right.” I stopped. “I will not say it was right. Taking the access was wrong keeping the secret for so long was wrong. The times when I could have told you and did not tell you were wrong.” I took a breath. “The reasons are not excuses. They are just the real state I was in.”