Double Deception

Chapter 7: The Unmasking

I couldn't wait any longer. The moment I got home, I called Emily. My voice was sharp, my words clipped.

"We need to talk. Now."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before she answered, her voice tentative. "Is everything okay?"

"No," I replied firmly. "Come over, or I'm coming to you. This can't wait."

The Confrontation

Emily arrived at my apartment an hour later, looking pale and anxious. She stepped inside, glancing at me nervously as I closed the door behind her.

"What's going on?" she asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

I gestured to the couch, and she hesitated before sitting down. I remained standing, pacing the room as I gathered my thoughts.

"I saw Emma last night," I began, my tone steady but cold.

Emily flinched. "Oh?" she said weakly.

"At a nightclub," I continued. "She was wearing your bracelet."

Her eyes widened, and she quickly looked away, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"It's over, Emily," I said, stopping to face her. "The lies, the games. I know the truth. Emma isn't your twin. She's you."

Emily's head snapped up, her face crumbling under the weight of my words. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.

"Don't do this," I said, my voice rising. "Don't insult me by pretending anymore. I've seen the signs. The scar on your wrist. The way Emma acts like she knows everything about me. The bracelet. It all makes sense now. Emma is you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pressed her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking. "I didn't mean for it to get this far," she whispered, her voice muffled.

I sank into the armchair across from her, the anger in me giving way to exhaustion. "Then tell me. Tell me everything."

The Truth

For a long moment, Emily said nothing, her breathing ragged as she fought to compose herself. Finally, she lowered her hands and met my gaze, her eyes red and brimming with tears.

"You're right," she said softly. "Emma isn't real—not in the way you thought. She's... she's me."

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"I created her," she admitted, her voice trembling. "It started a few years ago, before we even met. I was under so much pressure to be perfect—perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect everything. I couldn't breathe under the weight of everyone's expectations."

Her eyes grew distant, as if she were reliving the memories. "So I invented Emma. She was everything I couldn't be. Wild. Free. Reckless. At first, it was just a way to let off steam. I'd go out as her, act like a different person for a night, and then go back to being Emily. It felt... liberating."

"But then we got together," she continued, her voice breaking. "And you were so wonderful, so kind. I wanted to be perfect for you too. But that pressure... it never went away. If anything, it got worse."

"So you kept being Emma," I said, my tone bitter.

She nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I told myself it didn't mean anything. That it was just a way to escape, to blow off steam. But then it spiraled out of control. I started lying to you, sneaking around. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't stop."

Her confession hit me like a tidal wave. Part of me had prepared for this, but hearing her say it out loud was something else entirely.

"Why?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Why didn't you just talk to me? Why couldn't you trust me enough to tell me how you were feeling?"

She shook her head, her sobs growing louder. "I was scared. Scared that if you saw the real me—all my flaws, all my darkness—you'd leave. And I couldn't bear to lose you."

I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of the armrest. "Do you have any idea what this has done to me? To us? You didn't just lie—you built an entire life of deception. How can I trust anything about you now?"

Emily buried her face in her hands again, her sobs the only sound in the room.

The Aftermath

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. I stood up, pacing the room as my emotions churned.

"I need time," I finally said, my voice cold and distant. "Time to process all of this. Time to figure out if I can even look at you the same way again."

Emily looked up at me, her face a picture of devastation. "Please," she whispered. "Don't give up on us. I'll do anything to fix this. Anything."

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

As I walked to the door and opened it, signaling for her to leave, I felt a mix of anger, heartbreak, and overwhelming confusion.

She hesitated, her eyes pleading, but I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze. Finally, she nodded, wiping her tears as she stood and walked out.

When the door closed behind her, I leaned against it, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from under me.

The woman I loved was a stranger. And I didn't know if I'd ever be able to find my way back to her—or if I even wanted to.