Chapter 4 - Lies Between Us
835 Words
Sleep didn’t come that night.
I lay awake in the dark, listening to Daniel pace the living room like a restless animal. Creak. Sigh. A muttered curse. The floorboards spoke his frustration louder than he ever would.
My mind kept replaying everything—the letter, the stranger’s warning, the folder of damning documents, that chilling text message. All of it swirled together until I couldn’t tell which way was up.
When the first gray light of dawn slipped through the curtains, I dragged myself out of bed. Daniel was still awake, hunched over the kitchen table with his head in his hands.
For a second, my heart almost broke at the sight of him—unkempt, exhausted, vulnerable. Almost.
“Who sent that message?” My voice came out rough but steady.
Daniel snapped his head up; his jaw was shadowed with stubble, his eyes bloodshot. “Emma, please…”
“No.” I shook my head. “No more vague warnings. No more half-truths. You keep saying you’re protecting me—from what? Because right now, it looks like you’re drowning in something criminal, and I’m standing here wondering if I ever knew you at all.”
His chair scraped back hard as he stood. In two strides, he was in front of me, his hands closing around my arms—not roughly, but firm, like he needed to keep me there.
“You do know me,” he said fiercely. “You know the man who brings you tea when you’re too tired to move. The man who drives across town just to buy the bread you like. The man who loves you, Emma. That’s not a lie.”
The words tugged at me, but the memory of that folder—those signatures—slammed back like a door. I pulled away, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Love isn’t proof.”
Silence pressed against my ears until it burned.
Finally, Daniel dragged a hand across his face. “You met her, didn’t you? The woman.”
I stiffened. “…Yes.”
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. “What did she tell you?”
“That you’re not who I think you are. That you’ve lied. That there’s something in your life you’re keeping secret—and it could ruin everything.”
He cursed under his breath, pacing. “Of course she’d say that.”
“Is she wrong?” I asked softly.
He froze, back still to me. His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath. Then he turned, his face raw with pain and defiance.
“She’s not wrong,” he admitted.
The ground tilted beneath me. “So it’s true.”
“Not the way she made it sound.” His voice cracked. “Emma, please. What I’m tangled in—it isn’t greed, and it isn’t betrayal. It’s survival. It’s family.”
The word hit me hard.
“You’re lying to me to save someone?”
“Yes.” One word, nearly broken. “And if you knew what was at stake, you’d understand why I can’t tell you everything.”
Tears stung my eyes. “Do you hear yourself? You want me to wait in the dark, blind, while my life unravels around me. To trust you without proof.”
His expression softened into anguish. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached for me again. This time, I didn’t pull away. His hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing at the tears I hadn’t even noticed.
“Emma,” he whispered, his forehead pressing to mine. “I’m not your enemy. I’d burn the world before I let anything happen to you.”
My heart thudded painfully. His closeness, the raw sincerity, the way his voice trembled—it was everything I wanted to believe. Everything I used to believe.
But wanting wasn’t the same as truth.
I closed my eyes, letting the moment linger. Then I stepped back, breaking it.
“If you love me,” I whispered, “prove it. Tell me the truth.”
His jaw clenched, war flickering across his face. For a moment, I thought he would.
Then his phone buzzed on the table.
He flinched, palmed the screen too quickly, turning it away from me.
“Who is it?” I demanded.
Daniel didn’t answer.
The silence hollowed me out, rage and heartbreak colliding until I could barely breathe. “I can’t live like this. Either you trust me with the truth—or you lose me.”
The words hung between us, sharp and final.
Before Daniel could respond, a knock rattled the door.
We both froze.
It wasn’t polite. It was heavy. Metallic. Three hard thuds that reverberated through the apartment.
Daniel’s face was drained of colour. “Emma,” he said urgently, “go to the bedroom. Now.”
Fear prickled over my skin, but my feet stayed planted.
The knock came again, louder, more demanding.
Whoever stood on the other side hadn’t come to visit. They’d come for a reckoning.
- Writer
