“Not like this.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I betrayed my twin sister in the worst possible way.”
I tilt my head, waiting for her to continue.
“I slept with her boyfriend.” The words come out in a rush. “Asher and I... it wasn’t planned. It just happened, and then it happened again. And then...” She trails off, her gaze fixed on her hands.
“And then?” I prompt.
“I had an abortion last week.” Her voice cracks. “Nobody knows. Not my sister, not my parents.”
“That’s a lot to carry alone, Kayla.”
She nods, tears streaming down her face. “I hurt my sister... she would never hurt me like this.”
I reach for her hand. “You made a mistake that hurt people you love. That doesn’t make you a terrible person.”
“I look at my sister every day knowing what I did. She smiles at me, tells me everything, trusts me completely. And all I can think of is how I betrayed her.”
“Is that why you’ve been hurting yourself?”
She looks down at the marks on her arms. “It feels like I deserve it.”
“No one deserves to be hurt, Kayla. Not even by themselves.”
“This secret is eating me alive.” She looks up at me, eyes desperate for answers. “Asher thinks we shouldn’t say anything, because it will make things worse.”
The statement echoes my own fears. What if telling Connor destroys everything we’ve built?
“I think,” I begin slowly, “that secrets have a way of coming out, eventually. And when they do, the damage is always worse than if we’d just been honest from the start.”
As I say the words, I realize I’m not just talking to Kayla anymore.
“So, I should tell my sister everything?” Her voice is small, frightened.
“I think you need to. Not just for her, but for yourself.”
“She’ll hate me forever.” Fresh tears spill down her cheeks.
“Your sister will be hurt. Deeply hurt. I won’t lie about that. But carrying this secret is destroying you, Kayla.”
Kayla nods slowly. “I’m scared.”
“That’s okay.” I squeeze her hand. “One step at a time.”
I check my watch. Two more patients to see before lunch. As I walk toward the next room, I feel more centered than I have all morning.
For these precious moments, I’m not a bride with secrets. I’m just a nurse connecting with people when they need it most.
After checking in on my last patient of the day, I slump against the wall in the quiet medication room. My phone buzzes with a text from Connor.
Dinner tonight? I miss you.
My thumb hovers over the screen. Every day I’ve spent with him since Vegas has been clouded by my secret.
I stare at the organized medication chart on the wall. If only emotional decisions came with warning labels: May cause heartbreak. Side effects include losing the love of your life.
This isn’t who I am—this secretive, anxious person who jumps at text messages and avoids eye contact. The real Meesha faces problems head-on, with a smile or tears. The real Meesha doesn’t hide behind lies, even lies of omission.
I text Connor back.
