Unspoken Reason Novels & Stories

I pressed, my voice trembling with a mix of frustration and curiosity. The cloaked figure's silence hung heavily in the air, exacerbating my perplexity. His reluctance to provide a direct answer left me feeling adrift, caught between the yearning for understanding and the realization that some truths may forever elude me. With a sigh, he turned away, his body language betraying a hint of remorse. "Sometimes, the reasons are not meant to be known," he murmured, his words carrying a sense of resignation. It was a cryptic admission, one that hinted at a complexity I couldn't grasp.

"Peter, I'm sorry but I'm no longer interested" "Give me a tangible reason" "I have no reason" "You have to get a reason Lexi. Just give it to me. Tell me a reason why I'm no longer an option. Tell me a reason why you're no longer feeling what you've been professing for the past five years"

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s your decision and it’s fine by me. I only wish not to be held against my will” “Are you really not going to give me a chance to explain myself?” “Of what use is it? You already stated your intentions. There’s no need to go over it again” I snapped impatiently. What more did he want me to hear? “And my reason?” I scoffed in disbelief. A man who never provided a reason. Always claimed to act because he just wanted to and suddenly, he had a reason. “I know you don’t have a reason and it’s totally fine. I don’t plan to bother you about it” I maintained a calm expression, ignoring the stabbing pain in my heart.

"Because I had not yet run out of reasons to say it." I hold very still. Something in that sentence has an edge I was not expecting .... the specific edge of an admission that is uncomfortable not because it is false but because it is precisely, completely true. He had not yet run out of reasons to say no. Which is not the same as having a strong reason to say no. Which is not the same as certainty. Which is the language of a man who was, for two years, holding a line with diminishing resources. I ask the question that the note under the door was pointing toward, the question I have been carrying since ten o'clock last night when I stood in my room with eight words in my hand.

The words slipped out before they could be stopped. The room froze. Tristan’s eyes lifted slowly. “Explain.” The man swallowed. “I mean… individually, these issues are small. But together—” He hesitated. “They don’t align with normal patterns.” Another voice added, more cautiously this time, “There’s no clear trigger. No market shift. No regulatory change. It’s just…” A pause. “…happening.” Silence settled again. He could feel it now. That word. Unspoken, but present in every thought in the room.

My words had him looking up at me, a bit taken aback and I nodded, "Yup, I just called him a dickhead, because I really don't like him." "And, to be honest, I believe that everything happens for a reason," I truly admitted, "There is a reason your brother pushed you to this, there is a reason that out of everyone it was me," I shrugged, "I don't know what that reason is yet, but...maybe so I could help you, or who knows, maybe you could help me," He listened intently to my words, "Whatever it is, there is a bigger meaning behind this that we can't comprehend yet, and I truly believe in that."

And if anything, I was rather drunk in betrayal and deceit than on alcohol. “Well…” he started, adjusting on the ice, his gaze far. “If someone offended me—hurt me very bad—and I know I was very close to them, and, uh… I didn't expect such from the person, like whatever the person has done came off as a huge surprise…” He shrugged. “I would ask them why they did it.” I paused. Turning to look at him, though he didn't turn to me. He continued— “You know, Riven, in this life, there's no action without a reason. A trigger.

And yet, it also felt perfectly right. We sat down, and the moment stretched between us, thick with unspoken words. I knew he had invited me here for a reason, that there was more to this dinner than just “thanks” for a job well done. But what that reason was—what he was really asking—I wasn’t sure. “I know this is a bit…” He stopped himself, as if choosing his words carefully. His gaze softened as he met mine. “Unexpected.” I smiled faintly, leaning back in my chair. “Unexpected?” I repeated. “Maybe. But then again, nothing about us has been… ordinary, has it?”

Deep down, I had to keep my voice steady and convey my reason to Mr Adrian. “Mr. Adrian, honestly, your deals are quite encouraging. It's not that I don’t see the value of your deal. It was great. Honestly, your deal is tempting. But I have two reasons why I don't want to have anything to do with your deal, Mr Adrian.”

I responded still not noticing the person I'm talking too. "My fiancé won't stop bugging me to set a date for our wedding and I'm still not sure I want to marry her and I found out she can't have kids because she did two damn abortion already" he said sounding stressful. "Can you believe she hid that from me?" He added "Oh I am sorry, lets drink our pain away..... No no no lets get out of here and do something together to erase the awful pain" I said this time staring in his direction. I was completely drunk but he look very handsome with a charming smile. He was sipping on a beer which seems like his forth one because three empty bottle on the counter In front of him.