Half Truth
1310 Words
REYNA'S POV
When Nicholas walked away toward his study, the hallway felt too quiet. I stayed where I was, right in the middle of the living room, my fingers slowly uncurling from the fists I didn’t even know I made. My whole body felt tight, like someone had stretched me too far.
I took a small breath. Then another. But the air felt thick. Heavy. My chest rose and fell fast, like it forgot how to breathe slow.
I moved to the couch and sat down carefully. My legs shook a little. I pressed my palm against my stomach again, feeling the tiny flutter inside, that constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. I placed my other hand on top of it, holding myself still.
“You’re okay,” I whispered to my belly. “We’re okay.”
But I wasn’t sure if I believed it. My head felt light, like everything around me was spinning just a little too fast. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the weight of Nicholas’s words, pressing down on me until I couldn’t even think straight.
I leaned back against the couch and closed my eyes. My cheeks felt cold, but my forehead was warm. My heartbeat echoed in my ears. I breathed in through my nose, slow and careful, but even that felt shaky.
Calm down, Reyna. Calm down.
But calming down was hard when all I could hear were Nicholas’s words replaying in my mind:
“You’re not ready for all of it yet.”
“You’re carrying his child.”
“No going behind my back.”
“You won’t need to be desperate.”
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. The white paint looked blurry for a second. I blinked hard, trying to clear the haze.
Why did it feel like I was drowning?
Why did it feel like I was trapped between needing answers and needing air?
My chest tightened again, and I pushed myself to sit up straighter. I placed both hands flat on the couch on each side of me, grounding myself. The soft fabric under my palms helped a little. It kept me here, in the moment, not inside the mess in my head.
I took another breath and exhaled slowly.
“Okay… okay,” I murmured.
After a few minutes, the shaking stopped. Not fully, but enough for me to stand again. I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. My hand trembled a little as I lifted it, but I drank anyway. The cold water helped clear the fog in my head.
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and sighed.
I was fine. Mostly.
I walked toward the hallway to go upstairs and rest for a bit. But as I passed by Nicholas’s study, I slowed down. The door wasn’t fully closed. It stood half-open, just enough for a soft c***k of light to spill across the hallway floor.
I should keep walking.
I should give him space.
I promised him.
But then… I heard his voice. Soft. Low. Not calm. I froze.
His tone wasn’t the way he talked to me. It wasn’t careful or gentle. It was sharp, clipped, controlled the way someone sounded when they were trying not to break something.
I stepped closer without even thinking. My heart started beating harder again, but this time it wasn’t panic.
It was instinct. Curiosity. Fear. A pull I couldn’t stop.
I stood close enough that I could hear each word through the half-open door.
Nicholas hissed into the phone, “No, that doesn’t make sense. She said the same thing last week. Why would the timeline be different now?”
Silence on the other end. I felt my breath catch in my throat.
Who was he talking to?
What timeline?
He spoke again, lower this time. “I don’t care what she told the others. I need the truth. And I need it fast.”
He paced. I could hear his shoes scraping lightly against the floor.
My fingers curled against my side. My heart thumped harder.
He wasn’t talking about work.
He wasn’t talking about family.
He was talking about Jeremy.
I took a half-step closer.
Nicholas’s voice dropped even lower, like he didn’t want anyone to hear. “Look… I know it’s risky. But I need everything. Every record. Every message. Every place he visited those last three months. Nothing missing. You hear me? Nothing.”
My breath hitched.
Three months.
Jeremy’s last three months.
The months everything began falling apart.
Nicholas pressed his fingers to his forehead. “No, I can’t tell her yet. She’s not ready. She’s already pushing too hard, and Jessica almost...”
He stopped abruptly. My body stiffened. Jessica almost what?
Nicholas sighed, tired and angry. “Just send me the report when you’re done. And don’t call the house phone again. Only this line. Keep it quiet.”
There was a long pause. Then he said something that made my stomach twist.
“I don’t care if it takes all night. I need to know if he told her anything before he died.”
My breath froze. Was he talking about… me?
Did Nicholas think Jeremy told me something?
I felt my heart pound so hard it hurt. My hand flew to my mouth before I could stop it.
Nicholas’s voice softened suddenly, but not in a tender way. It was the soft tone people used before things exploded.
“And listen,” he said quietly. “If anyone else is involved, I want their name. All of them. I don’t care who they are. I want names.”
I stepped back slowly. My head spun, not from panic this time but from shock.
Nicholas wasn’t just investigating.
He was deep in something.
Deeper than he told me.
Deeper than I expected.
And he wasn’t doing it alone.
He had help.
Someone who knew more.
Someone who was feeding him information.
Someone he didn’t want me to know about.
I pressed myself gently against the wall, trying to breathe, but my heart felt too full, too heavy. His voice kept echoing in my head.
“I can’t tell her yet.”
“She’s not ready.”
“I want names.”
“Every place he visited.”
Why hide this from me?
Why say I wasn’t ready?
Why keep me out of the one thing we agreed to do together?
A soft floorboard creaked under his step, and I jumped. I moved back quickly, almost tripping over my own feet. I hurried down the hall and ducked into the first room I saw, one of the guest rooms, closing the door silently.
I leaned against it, holding my breath until my chest hurt.
He didn’t see me. He didn’t know I heard. But now I knew something he didn’t want me to know. Nicholas wasn’t just investigating.
He was hiding details.
Big ones.
Dangerous ones.
My hands shook again, but this time it wasn’t fear.
It was the slow burn of something else.
Determination.
New questions.
New gaps I needed to fill.
He said wait. He said trust him.
But how could I trust someone who chose which truths I deserved?
I slid down slowly until I sat on the floor, my back against the door, my hand on my stomach.
“I’m not stopping,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. “Not anymore.”
Jessica had hinted at things.
Nicholas was digging into timelines.
Someone out there knew more than both of them.
And if I didn’t keep moving, I would never find out.
Not waiting.
Not resting.
Not anymore.
If Nicholas wanted to hide things, fine.
But I would find my own answers.
Even if I had to go through every shadow Jeremy left behind.
- Writer
