As I sat across the dinner table from my husband, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within me. The room was filled with laughter and conversation, but a burden weighed heavily on my chest. I kept a secret from my husband all these years and I was even quite adept at concealing it, but recently, it began tugging at my heart a little bit too much.
You see, my husband had no idea that his brother was once my boyfriend. And even though I have thought about revealing it to him once or twice, the mere thought of him being emotionally and mentally destroyed holds me back always.
It all began long before I met my husband—during my college years. His brother was studying in the same college and eventually, we both fell deeply in love. We were inseparable, spending countless hours together, sharing dreams and creating memories. But as life often does, situations changed for us and we found ourselves drifting apart. We decided it was best to part ways, promising to remain friends. He was an amazing lover; he was the perfect example of ‘meeting the right person at the wrong time.’
Fast forward a few years, and I crossed paths with my husband. We met in a yoga class and as spontaneous as that sounds, we grew close through our love for yoga and fitness. Our connection was instantaneous, and love blossomed between us. We embarked on a beautiful journey together, vowing to support each other through thick and thin. I knew about his family and found it a little awkward when I heard that he had a younger brother who had the same name. It’s alright, I thought as there are many people in the world. But a few photos showed me exactly what I feared. His brother was the guy I dated back in college.
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I had hoped to leave my past firmly behind me, but now it resurfaced, threatening the very foundation of the life I had built with the man I now love. Faced with this delicate situation, I made a difficult choice—to keep my history with his brother hidden.
There was an unspoken bond of acceptance between me and my husband’s brother. We silently decided to keep this a secret for the sake of the man in between us, as he’s the only one I truly love now. So, over the years, I would exchange casual hellos with his brother, careful not to let any sign of familiarity slip. My heart would ache with the weight of secrets as I witnessed their sibling bond, knowing all too well the depth of their shared history. It was a constant reminder of the deceit I was making the web of deceit I had woven.
Sometimes, I would catch my husband’s gaze lingering on me a little too long, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Did he suspect that I was hiding something? Or was it just my guilty conscience playing tricks on me? I couldn’t be sure, and it only added to the anxiety I was building up.
As the years went by, the burden of secrecy grew heavier. I often questioned my decision to withhold the truth from James. Would he understand? Would he be able to forgive the lies that had woven our lives together? The fear of losing him was suffocating, and so I continued to wear my mask, hiding the truth behind a carefully constructed facade. Someday, when I have the courage, I will reveal the battered truth to my husband and that will be the day when I will be free from this secret.