Ink Doesn't Lie
860 Words
Episode 8
Dielle’s room was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that presses in on you.
She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, eyes closed.
Everything was spinning.
The Boss.
The boyfriend.
James.
The past.
And now—
The truth she couldn’t even fully remember.
Slowly, she walked to her drawer.
Hesitated.
Then pulled it open.
Inside—
A worn notebook.
Her diary.
She stared at it like it might bite.
“I don’t even remember what I wrote…” she whispered.
But her hands were already moving.
Flip.
Pages filled with messy handwriting.
Dates from months ago.
Before everything.
Before she knew.
Her eyes scanned—
Then stopped.
“There’s something about him I can’t explain.”
“He doesn’t talk much… but when he looks at me, it feels like he already knows everything.”
“I should probably stay away.”
“I won’t.”
Her breath caught.
Another page .
“James says he’s not a good person.”
“But James doesn’t see what I see.”
“He’s not dangerous… not to me.”
The room felt colder.
At the Door.
A soft knock.
Dielle didn’t answer.
The door opened anyway.
James
“I figured you’d be here,” he said.
Then he noticed—
The diary.
His expression shifted.
“What’s that?”
Dielle hesitated.
“…nothing.”
That was enough to make him step closer.
“Dielle.”
His voice was quieter now.
Careful.
“Let me see it.”
She shook her head immediately.
“No.”
That one word—
Set something off.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because it’s private.”
“Private?” he echoed.
A sharp laugh followed.
“You didn’t think your history with him was worth mentioning, but this is where you draw the line?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” James said,
“what’s not fair is finding out you were emotionally involved with the man we’re trying to stop—after everything.”
Dielle’s grip tightened on the diary.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?” he snapped.
Silence.
And that silence?
Said too much.
James’s eyes dropped to the diary again.
Then back to her.
“…you still feel something for him, don’t you?”
Dielle froze.
Because the worst part?
She didn’t know the answer.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Quiet.
Honest.
Dangerous.
That hit harder than any lie.
James stepped back slightly.
Like the space between them suddenly mattered.
“…wow.”
“James—”
“No,” he cut in.
“I get it now.”
His voice wasn’t loud.
But it carried weight.
“This whole time, I thought you were trying to protect your family.”
A pause.
“But really?”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“You’re protecting him.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
He gestured toward the diary.
“Everything you just read—what does it say?”
“That I was confused—”
“That you chose him,” James cut in.
Her chest tightened.
“I didn’t know who he was!”
“But you knew how you felt,” he fired back.
Silence.
Heavy.
“And now he’s back,” James continued,
“and suddenly you’re making deals… hesitating… defending him—”
“I am not defending him!”
“Then prove it!” he snapped.
The words hung there.
Sharp.
Challenging.
Dielle’s eyes burned slightly.
Not from weakness.
From frustration.
From everything crashing at once.
“You think this is about feelings?” she said.
“You think I’d risk everything for that?”
James didn’t answer.
That was the problem.
“I’m trying to fix something I didn’t even know I broke,” she continued.
“My sister is involved. That man—” she stopped herself,
“—both of them—are dangerous.”
“Exactly,” James said quietly.
“So why does it feel like you’re still choosing him?”
That question?
Cut deeper than all the others.
Because she didn’t have a clean answer.
James exhaled slowly.
Shaking his head.
“I’ve been standing right next to you this whole time,” he said.
“Watching you.”
A pause.
“Choosing you.”
Dielle’s breath caught.
“But you?”
He gave a small, bitter smile.
“You’ve been choosing him… even before you knew what he was.”
Silence.
He turned toward the door.
“Until you figure out which side you’re really on…”
A pause.
Then—
“I can’t do this with you.”
The door closed behind him.
Alone
Dielle stood there.
The diary still in her hands.
Heart racing.
Mind louder than ever.
Slowly—
She looked back down at the page.
Another line she hadn’t noticed before:
“If he ever asks me to choose… I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to say no.”
Her fingers tightened on the paper.
Because now—
That choice wasn’t a thought anymore.
It was real.
To be Continued......
- Writer
