14October2025 Monday
I awoke with a pounding head, the memory of last nights frantic rush still clinging to me. My sister Claire burst out of the bathroom, eyes wide. Youre expecting? she asked, halfshocked. And why are you here?
I snapped the laptop shut, my voice flat. Didnt anyone tell you you cant just take someone elses things without asking? Claire glared at me, and I realised Id better retreat to the spare bedroom. By dawn Id decided the only sensible move was to leave the flat altogether Claire was rummaging for a recipe meant for me, not for her.
At twentythree, Id met my love on a London street. A stranger sauntered over, handed me a white rose on a long stem, and asked if we could get to know each other. He looked ordinary, but there was a charisma about him, and he proved to be caring and attentive.
A month later I knew I couldnt imagine life without George. He felt the same, and within another month I moved into his twobed flat, leaving my cramped rented room behind. Six months after that he got down on one knee and proposed.
Hes hes I struggled to find words for Claire, trying to describe my fiancé. In short, I adore him and he loves me back.
Congratulations, Claire replied curtly. I paid her no heed. Since Mums death Id had no close family left besides her.
Thanks, I breathed out. Only problem is Georges off on a threemonth assignment to earn extra cash for our honeymoon.
Right, Claires tone remained emotionless. Ill let you know the wedding date. Youre invited, of course.
Sure.
It was always the case: I was tender, impressionable, delicate; Claire was serious, hardedged, independent. I even feared introducing her to George, worried she might not like him.
George called, Love, its only about 500 miles away. Ill be back on weekends or you can come to me. Yet we managed only one meeting a month his workload was relentless. The quicker we set up everything, the sooner hed return. I was willing to wait forever; his effort mattered because my meagre assistantaccountant salary could hardly support a future family.
In the second month of his posting, strange messages began arriving first texts, then voice notes from an unknown number. A robotic voice warned me never to do anything that might upset him. It felt like a threat, as if the wedding itself would bring disaster. The voice sent chills down my spine. The number was untraceable, and the messages vanished after a few hours. I told no one, though the fear gnawed at me.
One evening I found at the doorway a voodoolike doll with long chestnut hair, its face cut from a photograph my own. A large needle pierced its chest, and a slip of paper bearing threats lay beside it. My sensitive nature reacted instantly; I feigned a fever and skipped work, but I never complained to anyone.
Only George could have comforted me, yet I dared not disturb him while he was busy earning money. Nonsense, just jokes, I told myself, though I had no friends and no enemies, so the source must have been someone on Georges side trying to stir trouble.
Ill wait for Georges return and well sort everything out, I muttered, trying to banish the dark thoughts. Two days later, leaving the courtyard, a motorcyclist swerved dangerously close, almost running me down. He veered away at the last second, but the fright sent me stumbling onto the curb, where I tumbled onto the pavement, hitting my head hard.
A passerby, despite my protests, called an ambulance. At the hospital they diagnosed a mild concussion, a couple of bruises, and a pregnancy. I refused admission, claimed the fall was my own fault, and left the ward. Realising I couldnt return to Georges flat, I called Claire for help.
Whats happened? she asked, irritation in her voice. Did your beloved throw you out on the street?
Georges on a job away and
Ah, right. Come over and Ill hear the full story.
I poured out everything: the messages, the doll, the nearaccident. I dont want to distract George, I sighed, and I want to tell him about the baby in person he loves things presented nicely.
Claire, who never thought of her flat as a hostel, softened at my exhausted face. A couple of weeks, no more than that.
That was a relief. George had mentioned hed get a twoday leave soon, so wed be able to settle everything then.
It felt odd to lean on Claire after Mums death. We had sold the family house, split the proceeds; she took a mortgage thanks to her steady job and good salary, while I could only afford a modest studio still under construction. The building was supposed to be finished six months ago, yet it wasnt. With nowhere else to go, I tried to stay out of Claires sight, buying groceries, cooking, keeping the flat tidy, but I sensed my presence still irked her.
Ten days later I desperately needed a medication I found online, but my phone froze and died. Claire, can I borrow your laptop? I shouted from the bathroom, then fumbled it open. By sheer coincidence the first letters I typed brought up a search for pregnancy termination and various brew recipes.
Youre pregnant? Claire stared, bewildered as I stepped out of the bathroom. Why are you here then?
You never learned you cant take other peoples stuff without asking? I snapped, slamming the laptop shut. I realised I should have left the flat early the next morning. No big deal George would be back in a few days and Id manage.
When George finally returned, he looked angry, demanding to know who the babys father was. You, of course! What are you thinking? I was startled. And how do you even know? he pressed. He stared at me for a minute, then lunged, gripping me tightly.
Sorry! I almost lost it when I got that anonymous message. Im a complete fool! he whispered, tears spilling. I sobbed with relief, then, once steadied, recounted the months odd events. His expression shifted from shock to pallor to embarrassment.
Im sorry, he breathed again. I should have told you everything from the start.
He confessed that three months before meeting me hed been involved with Claire, who had hinted at marriage. Something had held him back. I drove Claire to our first meeting, asked her to set us up, but she refused. I didnt leave then; I saw you, and I knew Id fallen for you, not for my sister.
Silence hung.
I told Claire the next day we were over and set a trap to meet you, he admitted. Everything you know now follows that.
I rang Claire, voice steady. Is that true? Was it you?
You thought you could steal my fiancé that easily? she replied after a pause. I was pregnant with his child once, had an abortion. Its all messy.
What? I didnt know
Of course you didnt! I hoped hed ditch you too, but the wedding and the baby changed everything. Who do you think you are compared to me?
I hung up, eyes dry, staring at the wall.
Within a month and a half we married in a small, unremarkable ceremony; the baby arrived on schedule. I no longer speak to Claire at all.
Looking back, Ive learned that secrets festering in the shadows only grow into monsters that can ruin lives. Honesty, however painful, is the only way to keep love from being swallowed by deception.
