Have you ever been in love with two people at the same time? So deeply in love, so obsessed with your feelings, that you found it impossible to choose which one to build a life with?
I'm forty-eight years old, and by most standards, I've "made it." I own a successful business that brings in a generous income, I have a devoted wife, two kids born a year apart, a sprawling suburban home, a luxury sedan, and an expensive, fluffy pedigree dog. Before the pandemic, I took the family or a few friends abroad every six months; I've traveled half the world and seen more than most ever will.
But there is one massive "but" in my biography: I have a mistress. As a successful man with my level of income, I'm almost expected to have one; in my social circles, it's just the way things are. That's the cold, hard truth of my world. But here's the twist—this woman is part of my family. She sits at our table during Thanksgiving and Christmas; she's my wife's biological sister. Yes, I'm a fool for falling for my sister-in-law, but I can't help myself. With my resources, I could have had almost any woman, yet I chose my wife's own flesh and blood—a decision I regret more often than not.
It all started about twenty years ago, in the spring. I was just launching my firm and was looking for staff. Christina came in for an interview. I didn't hire her—I needed someone with experience, and she was fresh out of college—but I called her that evening and asked her out to dinner. I'd sensed during the interview that she was interested, and she happily accepted.
Even after all this time, I remember our first date in vivid detail. Christina showed up at the restaurant in a form-fitting red dress and black stilettos. We sat there for hours, drinking wine and talking about everything under the sun. At some point, I realized I was looking at the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It might sound melodramatic, but I fell hard for this young, brilliant, stunning brunette with her inner strength and natural charisma. From 그날 on, we were inseparable.
A few months later, Christina introduced me to her parents, but her sister, Megan, wasn't there. Megan was away at college in another state and rarely came home. From Christina's stories, I gathered that Megan was her polar opposite: a bit of a rebel with a flighty streak. She had a strained relationship with her parents, who disapproved of her lifestyle, which kept her away from home.
Over New Year's, Christina and I flew to Phuket, and that's where I proposed. We planned to marry that summer. I didn't actually meet Megan until a couple of weeks before the wedding. She'd run into some academic trouble and was forced to take a leave of absence and move back in with their parents. Christina was furious with her sister but tried to be supportive.
Megan really was the antithesis of my wife. she was "light and airy," an adventuress ready for anything. Unlike Christina, she didn't care what people thought. She lived life at full throttle, soaking up every moment.
I met Megan in early June while she and Christina were staying at their parents' summer cottage. I had stopped by to pick up my fiancée so we could go to the catering hall to finalize the wedding menu. As I walked onto the property, I heard loud music and saw a sight I'll never forget: Megan, wearing a bikini that was little more than three strategically placed strings, was dancing by the gazebo. I stood there frozen, not knowing where to look. She had her back to me and didn't notice I was there. Christina saved me—she killed the music and called out to her sister.
"Megan, please go inside and put some clothes on. Alex is here."
Megan turned around, gave me a long, appraising look, and whispered just loud enough for me—but not her sister—to hear:
"Well, aren't you a tasty choice?" Then she winked and ran inside.
Five minutes later, they both came out.
"Now we can do proper introductions," Christina said. "Alex, this is my younger sister, Megan."
I gave her a polite handshake, but she gripped my hand with surprising strength. That night, as I tried to sleep, all I could think about was Megan. I felt a secret, magnetic pull toward her, even though my brain told me nothing good could ever come of it.
***
I got lucky at first. After the wedding, I didn't see much of Megan. That fall, she moved back to the city where she'd been going to school. She got an apartment and a job, never returning to full-time classes—she switched to an online degree program instead.
My business was booming. We bought a spacious new house and were preparing to move just as Christina got pregnant. We had planned to rent out our old one-bedroom apartment, but my wife asked if we could hold off. Megan was having some kind of trouble; she wanted to move back to the city but refused to live with their parents. She asked if she could stay in our old place for a while. Money wasn't an issue for us, so I agreed to let her stay there rent-free.
We had already moved, but a few boxes were still at the old place. I went back to pick them up, letting myself in with my key. Megan stepped out of the bathroom in just her underwear, a towel wrapped around her head. She walked into the hallway and, seeing my stunned expression, said calmly:
"Hey. Did Christina forget to tell you I moved in already? Come on in."
"Hi. Could you... please..." I started to stammer, unable to take my eyes off her.
"Come in, I get it. I'll throw something on," she laughed, heading for the closet.
I grabbed my box and left, but Megan was back in my thoughts and my dreams.
It all went up in flames a month later. A faucet broke in the apartment, and she called me to see if I could send a plumber or fix it myself after work. Of course, I offered to do it myself. That evening, every secret desire I'd harbored became a reality.
I helped Megan land a great job, and eventually, I bought her a condo and a car. My wife knew her sister was seeing a "married man" who supported her financially. She didn't approve of the lifestyle, but she never suspected that the man was me.
Megan eventually got married and had a child, but we still see each other—though much less frequently than we used to. Over these eighteen years of leading a double life, I've wanted to break this vicious cycle many times. There were moments when Megan tried to cut me out of her life, too. Ten years ago, we had such a massive fight that she threatened to tell her sister everything if I didn't leave her alone. But I wouldn't let her go.
A few years back, my wife started to suspect I was having an affair. She even gave me an ultimatum, threatening to leave if I didn't "find my way back." But Megan stepped in; she talked to her sister and helped me save my marriage.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had married Megan instead of Christina. What would my life look like? If you could merge Christina and Megan into one person, you'd have the perfect woman; the sisters complete each other. I know I'm walking on the edge of a knife. One slip and my life is destroyed: my wife will leave me, she'll hate her sister, the family bond will be shattered, and my children will never forgive me. But I can't help it. I've loved them both for so many years, and I can't bring myself to let Megan go.
So, what do you think of that? The things people get themselves into...
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