The Truth of Lies

Breah's POV ‘CRACK’! “You f*****g b***h! You’ve ruined my life! I’m going to kill you!” Lisa Warren shrieked, lunging towards me, delivering an open-hand slap to my face. ‘CRACK’! My head whipped sideways as a second slap landed, me unable to avoid it, still off balance from the first slap. I could feel a warm trail of blood running down my face from the cut Lisa’s ring opened on my cheek. She had to have turned that ring around on her finger in a way that allowed the sharp design to tear at my skin. Damn her! Her third hit didn’t land. Not that she let that stop her. In her rage-fueled assault, she snatched the heavy metal and crystal decorative statuette from the table, swinging it with all her might at my head. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block the statuette from striking my head. The impact was so forceful it snapped both bones in my forearm, forcing the splintered ends to puncture the flesh. The pain was instant and agonizing. The continued downward motion of her swing allowed the statuette to land a glancing blow to my head, splitting my scalp open. Blood poured from the wound, streaming down my face to finally pool on the tile at my feet. I sank to the floor, dizzy and disoriented, cradling my now useless right arm with my left hand. Tears mixed with the blood running down my swollen face as I tried to breathe through the agonizing pain. Finally, security rushed forward, tackling a cursing and screaming Lisa to the floor. Not once did her hate-filled eyes look away from mine. If looks could kill, I would be dead, not just bleeding from a head wound and holding my shattered forearm. The press conference, which was being live-streamed to my company’s website, as well as the social media page of the city, ended abruptly. Gasps from the assembled guests filled the room, as countless phones recorded the altercation. Every action, every word spewing from Lisa was recorded for posterity. There would be no escaping the legal consequences of her actions, for which I was thankful. I remained conscious long enough to catch a glimpse of police and emergency medical services personnel swarming into the venue. As my vision blurred and began to fade, I saw two EMTs make their way towards me. What held my last bit of attention was Ryker Sterling kneeling beside me, his dark brown eyes filled with a mixture of concern, anger, and love. “Stay with me, Breah. You’re going to be okay. Help is here. I’m here. Here for you, always.” Ryker’s emotion-filled voice became muffled as my consciousness faded. ‘I hope he’s telling the truth’ was my last coherent thought until hours later when I woke up in a darkened hospital room to the beeping of a heart monitor. My eyes fastened on the sleeping figure of Ryker Sterling; his upper body slumped over on the left side of the hospital bed. He had my left hand grasped in his, as though he would never let me go. He was here. With me. He had told me the truth. What Came Before — How To Spot A Liar  Truth is a funny thing. Something is either true, or it isn’t true. A lie can never be the truth, no matter how you spin it. The truth about lies is they are told solely to protect the one lying, not the one being lied to. Those lies are either lies of commission or lies of omission. In other words, you can tell a lie or decide to say nothing to hide the truth. Either way, the truth is, they lied. I expect people to lie to me when it comes to business. Or ‘stretch the truth’ to coin the term my grandmother used while trying to be kind when describing a liar. Let me introduce myself. My name is Breah Collins. I’m twenty-seven, 5’8” with a toned body, long dark blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and delicate facial features. More importantly, at least to me, is what I have accomplished educationally and professionally. My ability to speak five foreign languages fluently is a result of my family living in five different countries during my father's military career. My parents insisted we integrate into the local culture, learn the language. Thankfully, languages come easy to me. As did studying. The Master of Business Administration and Master of International Business designations after my name speak volumes about my intelligence and determination. Presently, I work as a business analyst that specializes in acquisitions and mergers for a mid-sized national company. I am damn good at my job despite what some of my male colleagues choose to think. They fail to see the truth right in front of them until it’s too late, choosing to believe the lies they tell themselves. People lie. It’s a fact of life. It’s a hazard of the business world. I learned early in life that certain phrases people used were a ‘tell’ when they were lying. When someone uses the phrase ‘you have to believe me’, that’s just code for ‘I’m lying to you, but I want you to believe it’s the truth’? When someone says, ‘it’s not what it looks like’, I can pretty much guarantee that it is exactly, one hundred percent, what it looks like. When someone says, ‘we’re just friends, you're imagining things’, you can be certain that they are more than just friends, and you are not imagining a damn thing. Those three phrases are used by liars and cheaters all the time. Used to gaslight, to manipulate, to try to hide their dirty little secrets from the light of day. Three phrases I never thought I would hear from Mark Spencer, the man who asked me to marry him, and his female friend/colleague, Lisa Warren. But hear them, I did, multiple times. Enough times that I tried to cut them out of my life. Those two gave me quite the education in how easy it is for some people to lie. Thankfully, in my life, I’ve learned to watch a person’s actions and compare them to the words they speak. Once you lie to me and I find out, we are done.