Have you ever been in love with two people at the same time? So deeply in love and consumed by your feelings that you couldn’t possibly choose which one to spend your life with?
I’m 48 years old, and as a man, I’ve achieved quite a lot: I own a successful business that brings in a good income, I have a loving wife, two children born a year apart, a large house in a nice neighborhood, a luxury car, and a fluffy purebred dog. Before the pandemic, I used to travel abroad every six months with my family or friends, exploring half the world and visiting countless countries.
But there’s a big “but” in my story—I have a mistress. As a man of my status and income, having a mistress is almost expected in my social circle; it’s just the way things are! This woman is part of our family’s inner circle, and I often talk to her at our family gatherings during holidays or weekends. She’s my wife’s sister. Yes, I’m a fool for falling in love with my wife’s sister, but I can’t help myself. With my resources, almost any woman would agree to be my mistress, but I chose my wife’s sister, and I often regret it.
It all started about 20 years ago in the spring. I was just launching my business, opening a small company and hiring staff. Christine came to me for a job interview, but I didn’t hire her: I needed someone with experience, and she had just graduated from college. That evening, I called her and invited her to a restaurant. I could tell during the interview that she liked me, so she happily accepted my invitation.
So much time has passed, but I still remember our first date in vivid detail. Christine arrived at the restaurant in a tight red dress and black high heels. That evening, we sat there for hours, sipping wine, talking about life, and at some point, I realized that the woman sitting across from me was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It might sound overly dramatic, but I fell in love—head over heels for a young, intelligent, stunning brunette with a strong personality and charisma. From that day on, we were inseparable.
A few months later, Christine introduced me to her parents, but her sister, Mary, wasn’t there for the introduction. Mary was studying in another city and rarely came back home. From Christine’s stories, I gathered that Mary was her complete opposite: a rebellious free spirit with a carefree attitude. Mary had conflicts with her parents, who disapproved of her lifestyle, so she hardly ever visited.
For the New Year’s holidays, Christine and I flew to Thailand, where I proposed to her. We planned to get married the following summer. I met her sister, Mary, just a couple of weeks before the wedding. Due to academic troubles, Mary had to take a leave of absence from her university and return to her parents’ home. Christine was frustrated with her sister but tried to support her.
Mary is the polar opposite of my wife—a carefree, adventurous spirit, always ready for anything. Unlike Christine, she doesn’t care what others think. She lives life to the fullest, savoring every moment.
I met Mary in early summer when she and Christine were staying at their parents’ country house. We were supposed to go to a café to finalize the wedding menu and guest list, so I drove to pick up my fiancée. When I arrived at the property, I heard loud music and saw an unforgettable scene: Mary, wearing what could barely be called a bikini—just a few strips of fabric—was dancing near the gazebo. I froze, unsure what to do. She had her back to me and didn’t notice me. Christine saved the day by turning off the music and calling out to her sister.
— Mary, go inside and put some clothes on, please. Alex is here.
Mary turned to me, gave me an appraising look, and whispered so her sister wouldn’t hear:
— Well, you’re not bad. Quite the catch. — She winked and ran inside to get dressed.
Five minutes later, the girls came out of the house.
— Now we can properly introduce ourselves. This is my younger sister, Mary.
I lightly shook her hand, but she gripped mine with surprising strength. That night, as I fell asleep, my thoughts were of Mary. From that moment, I felt a secret attraction to her, though I knew nothing good could come of it.
I got lucky: after the wedding, I didn’t see Mary for a while. That fall, she went back to the city where she was studying. She rented an apartment, got a job, and never returned to her studies full-time, switching to distance learning instead.
My business was thriving, and we bought a spacious new apartment with plans to move in. Christine got pregnant. We intended to rent out our old one-bedroom apartment, but my wife asked to hold off on that. Mary was having some issues and wanted to move back to the city but refused to live with her parents. She asked Christine if she could stay in our old apartment for a while. Since money wasn’t an issue, I agreed to let Mary live there rent-free.
We had already moved into our new place but hadn’t transferred all our belongings. I went to the old apartment, opened the door with my key, and walked in. Mary came out of the bathroom in her underwear, a towel wrapped around her head. She walked into the hallway, saw my surprised face, and said calmly:
— Hey, did Christine forget to tell you I’d moved in? Come on in.
— Hi. Could you, uh… — I started stammering, staring at her.
— Got it, I’ll throw something on, — she laughed and headed toward the closet.
I grabbed a box of our things and left, but Mary was back in my thoughts and dreams.
Everything escalated about a month later. The faucet in the apartment broke, and Mary called me to either send a plumber or fix it myself after work. Of course, I offered to handle it myself. That very evening, all my secret desires came to life.
I helped Mary get a good job, bought her an apartment, and a car. My wife knew her sister was involved with a married man who supported her financially. She didn’t approve of Mary’s behavior but never suspected that I was that man.
Mary eventually got married and had a child, but we still see each other, though much less frequently than before. Over these 18 years of living a double life, I’ve tried many times to break this vicious cycle. There were moments when Mary tried to cut me out of her life too. Ten years ago, we had such a bad fight that she threatened to tell her sister everything if I didn’t leave her alone, but I couldn’t let her go.
A few years ago, my wife started suspecting I had a mistress and even gave me an ultimatum: she’d leave me if I didn’t come to my senses. Mary stepped in, talked to her sister, and helped me save my marriage.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d married Mary instead of Christine. If you could combine Christine and Mary, you’d get the perfect woman—they complement each other so well. I know I’m walking a tightrope, and one misstep could ruin everything: my wife would leave me, she’d hate her sister, their family bonds would be shattered, and my children would never forgive me. But I can’t help myself—I’ve loved both of them for so many years, and I can’t let Mary go.
What do you think of a story like that? Life can be so unpredictable…
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