20!Truth!

 Sylvia 

I lay still on my bed, eyes closed, my arms tucked under my pillow. The room was dark except for the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Outside, I could hear the distant hum of cars and the occasional rustle of leaves brushing against my window. But inside, my mind was louder than anything else.

Memories began to float back, uninvited.

I found myself drifting to a time when life felt... lighter and simple. I was just a little girl then, and everything seemed so simple. Back when Dad was still married to Mom. Back when we lived in that small, cozy town where everybody knew everybody. Our house was modest, but it was filled with love. The kind of love that made everything feel safe.

Mom had always wanted a child, but she had difficulty conceiving. I didn’t understand much at the time, but I remember how her eyes lit up when she held me for the first time. Even though I wasn’t her biological child, she never made me feel any different. Not for a second. I was hers, completely. And I cherished every moment I had spent with her.

She supported Dad in everything, especially when he decided to start his own hospital. It wasn’t grand at first. Just a modest building with a handful of doctors and a tiny waiting room. But they worked so hard. Late nights, endless paperwork, budget stress, I saw them hustle and struggle side by side. They believed in it, and in each other. Every laughter they shared during their late night budget, where I pretend to sleepwalk just so Dad will let me sleep on his lap.

And it all paid off.

The hospital grew. Dad finally landed a massive contract that changed everything. New wings were added, more staff joined. After a while the new hospital was built and people started talking about us like we were some kind of success story. It should have been the happiest time in our lives.

But that’s when everything shattered.

Maryanne came into the picture, unannounced and unapologetic.

I remember that awful day. The way Maryanne showed up at our house with Emily by her side. She looked Mom straight in the eyes and said without batting an eyelid, “You deserve to know the truth.”

The truth. My mom stared, confused at what the truth was.

Maryanne told Mom she had been with Dad for years… that their affair hadn’t just been a fling. And the bombshell? Emily. Not only was she Dad’s child, she was older than me.

He had been supporting them secretly for years.

I could still hear the way Mom gasped, the way her voice cracked as she asked Dad if it was true. And the silence that followed… said everything. No yelling. No screaming. Just silence. The kind that breaks your heart clean in two.

After that, Mom was never the same. Her smile became rare. Her health began to fade. Grief clung to her like a shadow she couldn’t shake. And not long after, we lost her.

And just like that, the family I thought I knew... was gone. Dad got married to Maryanne two years later.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Then another. I didn’t move. I just let it happen. My chest felt tight, like something heavy was sitting on it.

Just then, my phone began to ring.

The sound cut through the silence like a blade. I blinked and slowly reached over to pick it up.

Logan.

I rolled my eyes without thinking. I wasn’t in the mood for anyone, especially not him. He’d been so hot and cold lately, although he already apologized yesterday. And after the day I’d had, I didn’t feel like pretending.

Still, I answered.

“Hello?” I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding as tired and broken as I felt.

“Sylvie?” Logan’s voice came through, soft and careful. “Are you okay?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired,” I said quickly, hoping to end the conversation before he caught on.

But of course, he did. He was a very smart and observant person.

“No, something’s wrong,” he said. “I can hear it in your voice. What happened?”

I bit my lip, unsure if I wanted to get into it. But something about his tone, genuine, warm, a little worried, made me pause.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

“Sylvie,” he said gently, “talk to me. Please. I know I might be the last person you would want to talk about your issues with, but you know you really need someone to talk to right now, and I am right here. Remember a problem shared is a problem half solved."

I sighed, the fight in me deflating. “It’s just… a lot. I came home from a really exhausting shift, and Emily was blasting music in the basement like it was a nightclub. I asked her nicely to turn it down, but she exploded on me.”

Logan stayed quiet, listening.

“She said I wasn’t her real sister. That I was just a charity case Dad brought home. And I don’t know, it just… brought everything back.”

There was silence for a beat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said finally, his voice filled with something that felt a lot like tenderness. “That’s not fair. You didn’t deserve that. Especially not after the kind of day you had.”

I closed my eyes again, letting his words sink in.

“She doesn’t understand,” I whispered. “She thinks I’m trying to control everything, but I’m just trying to hold it together. For Dad. For the hospital. For myself. The last thing I would want is hate from my elder sister, but it seems like it is unavoidable.”

“I get it,” Logan said. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing an amazing job. Seriously. You’ve always been the one holding things up when everyone else is falling apart.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, even though tears were still on my face.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, his words really meant so much to me at a time like this.

“Anytime,” he replied. “Hey… want to talk about something totally random? Just to take your mind off everything?”

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Sure,” I murmured. “I never knew you could be so sweet?”

“I actually am, but you would only know, when you get closer to me.”

“I see.”

And just like that, we slipped into easier conversation. He told me a ridiculous story when he was in college, about his neighbor’s cat who apparently thought it owns the building. I told him about the one time I stitched up a kid who refused to stop telling knock-knock jokes the entire time. We laughed, really laughed, and for a moment, the weight on my chest lifted.

Time passed. I didn’t even realize how much.

Eventually, I looked at the clock and yawned. “Logan, thanks for calling. I really needed that.”

“I’m glad I did,” he said. “Get some sleep, Sylvie. And remember, you’re not alone. Ever.”

My heart softened at his words. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight.”

I hung up and placed my phone on the nightstand. As I lay back on my bed, the tears were gone. My thoughts were still there, yes, but they didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, I’d be okay.