My eyes narrowed at Dwain's insinuations, the lines between delusion and reality suddenly blurring, irrational alarms firing with the loudness of a siren in my ears.
I resisted the seething urge to stuff my ears with my fingers, the shooting pain becoming somewhat unbearable, and all of my knuckles turned into a frightening shade of white as they fisted against my will to alleviate the persisting discomfort.
Elisabeth had warned me against falling in love with Dwain, finding numerous excuses to prove the guy was simply a walking red flag, but the heart unlike other organs made the rules, many of which included deciding with whom to fall in love.
Perhaps, I should have listened to Elisabeth's advice.
If I had paid more attention, this situation wouldn't have even existed.
Remorse feasted on my conscience, drinking from my sorrows.
My life was doomed, running around in endless circles of chaos.
I was currently experiencing fifty shades of dreadfulness.
As if it weren't enough, I had already broken one of our many promises, yet I was on the brink of breaking another promise and downright betraying Elisabeth's trust.
Elisabeth wasn't a saint herself, but betrayal of any sort was still betrayal.
She would never approve of me snitching the secret we held onto so dearly.
It was way too risky she had invested a lot of energy and timely efforts in talking me out of making rash decisions that would put an end to my life as well as hers.
The tension in the room thickened as Dwain kept glaring at me.
It was my entire fault, making up a hundred thousand ideas in his head, giving him false hopes, and watching him wait for the suspicion he had conjured to get cleared.
Perhaps, I was just a naturally bad person.
I was a very bad person who hadn't realized how evil and inconsiderate she was towards others, especially towards genuine people like Dwain.
It led me to wonder about how much of an effect my absent parents had on me.
Ignoring my hesitation to address the questions he had previously asked, Dwain's deep voice grew cold, it was distant, trembling with suppressed anger as he retorted. "Is there something you need to tell me?"
Pangs of guilt troubled my conscience.
Dwain's question had ignited another sense of dread within me.
I couldn't bear to see his face twisted in anger, to witness the trust between us crumble like dry clay.
I hoped that the indirect approach of revealing the truth would grant me a glimpse into Dwain's reaction, preparing me for what lay ahead, yet it was backfiring, creating suspicions that necessitated to be addressed in the serenest way possible.
I didn't want to start a fight, talk less of quarreling.
I was more concerned with the execution of my plan.
So, there was no room for turning back.
I couldn't turn back, it was already too late.
I continued my act, lowering my mortified gaze, unable to meet his penetrating stare, yet gently squeezing his hand, hoping to provide some momentary comfort.
The opportunity to come clean had presented itself, the long-awaited opportunity to let the truth unravel, but I couldn't bear the thought of receiving Dwain's resentment and losing his love forever.
I cleared my throat, peacefully gulping down undesired lumps. "Must there be something to tell you before bringing up an article I read online?"
"From the anxious look on your usually composed face," he pulled his hands away, his eyes clouding with frustration, "there is something you want to tell me."
He was too confident for his own good.
I retaliated, my hands fidgeting to grab the shampoo bottle. "Not necessarily."
He sighed, his shoulders slumping to lean back against the bathtub. "What's then the point?"
The room grew still, the sound of water droplets hitting the surface of the bath filling the silence.
"Isn't it obvious?"
I paused to catch my breath.
Each word cut through my heart, solidifying the fear that revealing the truth would shatter the relationship between us. "The woman's story made me think about how complex love can be and how it can be tested in unimaginable ways. That is the reason I decided to share the story with you, to listen to your perspective."
He sat up slightly, masking the interest in his eyes, the warm water cascading down his broad shoulders.
"So, you're saying people would go to great lengths for love, even if it means hiding the truth and not giving others a choice? That sounds like a selfish act. To trap someone in a web of lies just to fulfill their desires."
"No, no, no, that's not what I mean."
I squirted shampoo into my hands, cautiously leaned forward, and applied it gently onto his very sensitive scalp, my grip around his relaxed hair tightening, my voice pleading for understanding.
"I'm just trying to explore the emotions involved, the agony of realizing the consequences of our actions, and the fears that come with revealing the truth."
His reply was almost immediate.
"I can't even begin to understand how she could justify her actions. To deceive someone you supposedly love, to lie about who you are... it's unthinkable."
"Love is a complicated thing," I murmured while untangling knots in his hair. "Sometimes, circumstances force us to make difficult choices, even if they go against our moral compass. We can't judge others without knowing the whole story."
"What about trust?" he objected straightaway, furrowing his perfectly aligned brows into a signature inquisitive grin. "Trust is the foundation of any relationship. How can you build a life with someone who has deceived you from the start?"
"Trust is vital, I agree." Nodding, my heart sank deeper than the Titanic. "But love, forgiveness, and understanding also play significant roles. People make mistakes, and sometimes they do things they never thought they would. It's not for us to condemn, but rather to empathize and offer guidance."
He ignored whatever I had to say, paying most of his attention to his anxious trend of thoughts as he grumbled. "I can't imagine how betrayed that man must feel. To think you're with the person you love, only to discover it's someone else entirely. It's disgusting. It is disgusting. How could anyone do that to another person?"
"The woman was desperate.'" A lump formed in my throat, my hand faltering for a moment before I regained my composure. "What should she have done?"
Dwain's frustration morphed into anger as he lashed out, his voice filled with bitterness. "She should have told him the truth. How can she continue living a lie? Regardless of the consequences, honesty is always the better option. It might hurt at first, but the truth is the only way to rebuild trust."
"But what if the truth would only bring pain?" I stammered, my mind becoming an agricultural estate of chaos. "What if the truth drives her away from her husband? What if the husband can't forgive her for taking her twin sister's place?"
"You don't expect the husband to pretend to understand the complexities of the bond she has with her sister, do you? To deceive him, to make him fall in love with someone who isn't who she claims to be, no, that is betrayal, a dirty betrayal."
"Aren't you being too difficult?" I coerced. "Just jumping to a conclusion without analyzing the story from both perspectives? Aren't you being biased?"
Many emotions danced across his face like shadows, revealing a tender anger that he struggled to contain.
"I don't know if I can forgive someone for pulling such a shameful and cheap act on me. That's absurd! I can't even forgive the person. It's deception at its worst. I can't even imagine the betrayal that man must feel."
I desperately wanted to reveal my secret, to unburden my soul and seek forgiveness, but the fear of losing the only man I loved kept consuming me.
"But what if, the woman had good intentions? What if she thought she was protecting the man she loved? What if she was instead trying not to hurt him?"
"Good intentions?"
"Protecting someone?"
He laughed, his breath hitching in his throat as he contemplated the ramifications of the story.
"No, there's no excuse for deceit. Love doesn't justify lies. If someone truly loves their partner, they should have the courage to be honest, no matter how difficult the truth may be. Look, sometimes, the truth has a way of unraveling itself, no matter how hard we try to suppress it. And when it does, the consequences can be far worse than if it were told right from the beginning."
Each word pierced through my heart like a shard of glass.
The pain was indescribable, the weight of the truth unbearably heavy.
But as I witnessed Dwain's anguish, I found solace in stealthily crafting more and more reasons not to tell him the truth, to listen to Elisabeth for the very first time.
If this was the price of honesty, if it caused such agony within my beloved husband, then perhaps ignorance truly was bliss.
I moved closer to Dwain, wrapping my arms around him.
"Please, calm down," I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of regret and fear. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just something I came across while scrolling through online articles, and I just wanted to hear your perspective. It's nothing to get worked up about."
His body relaxed against my embrace, and I could feel the tension slowly dissipating.
He placed his hand on mine, his eyes softening as he realized the impact his words had on me. "I'm also sorry. Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to react so strongly."
"It is fine," I hummed, attempting a fake smile, hiding all the turmoil inside. "I understand. No offense was taken."
"Thanks for understanding." He pressed his lips against my forehead, his voice filled with compassion. "For real, if I found myself entangled in such a web of deception like the lady with a twin, I would have to find the courage to come clean, no matter the consequences. Honesty, even when painful, is the only way forward."
I didn't know what came over me, but it was out by the time I clasped my mouth in realization. "So...what if it was me? What if I was the woman in the article?"
He tilted my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes, intense and searching.
"Is this... is this something you're trying to tell me?"
At that moment, I was torn between the desire for liberation and the fear of losing the man I loved.
I had come to believe that the world I built with Dwain was worth any sacrifice, even if it meant keeping the secret buried deep within.
Perhaps, just as Elisabeth had suggested, leaving the mansion once the Japanese investors had signed their contract with Dwain wasn't the worst option after all.
"Forget about it. That was just an outside." As the water carried my unspoken emotions down the drain, the sigh that escaped my lips held the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies. "You know, the worst part about stories like this is that they make me question everything, trust, loyalty, love. How can we ever really know someone's true intentions? It's these kinds of stories that make me wonder if we can truly be vulnerable with another person. If you aren't even who you say you are, is there hope to be loved?"
His head turned, looking directly into my eyes, still rational and unconvinced by everything I had said.
"Are you sure there's no other thing you want to tell me?"
"Of course, there is nothing I want to tell you. If something comes to my mind, you would be the first person to know." I replied, my voice cracking, as I forced a smirk that felt like a thousand daggers piercing my heart. "I just thought this article was thought-provoking. It made me appreciate the honesty and trust we share."
He sighed and leaned back, the growing tension in his body now evident. "I hope that's true. I hope we can always be honest with each other."
I nodded, silently.
It could be that Felicia and Stephen's parenting had taken a toll on me.
My heart ached as I continued to wash Dwain's hair, the weight of my decision crushing me from within.
"Let's rinse your hair and dry it before you catch a cold."