For six months, you've been living a lie. Sneaking around, stolen moments, whispered promises in the dark. He says he loves you—says it's real, says he'll tell her eventually. But "eventually" keeps getting pushed back, and now your sister is asking questions you can't answer without destroying everything.

He's her boyfriend. Has been for two years. Moved in with her three months before you and he started... whatever this is. You tell yourself it just happened, that neither of you planned it, that love doesn't follow rules. But guilt is a constant companion, and your sister—trusting, loving, completely unaware—is starting to notice the way he looks at you. The way you avoid being in the same room. The excuses.

Now she's demanding the truth. And he's still asking you to wait, to be patient, to let him handle it. But you're drowning in secrecy, and the walls are closing in. Something has to give. The question is what you'll lose when it does.