She Died While They Kissed

The night before our wedding, my fiancea rising star Colonel in the Armywas in bed with my sisters boyfriend.

She was more than just a girlfriend; she was the woman my sister had treated like a soul-sister, the woman my parents had already welcomed into the family as a daughter.

The shock of that betrayal was a jagged blade. It sent my sister, Natalie, spiraling. She crashed her car that same night and never woke up.

My parents aged a decade in a single evening. I was hollowed out by grief, a ghost haunting my own life, looking for any way to join her. For months, our house was filled with nothing but the sound of muffled, broken sobbing behind closed doors.

Eventually, my father made the call. We moved. We left the city, the memories, and the wreckage behind. Slowly, we stepped out from the shadow of that tragedy. I eventually found peace with Tessa, a woman whose love was a quiet harbor, and we had a beautiful daughter.

Five years had passed. I honestly thought Id never have to hear the name Maria Vincent again.

Until my birthday.

I walked into my office to find a box of maple-glazed pecansthe ones I used to cravesitting on my desk. Taped to the lid was a note in a handwriting I recognized with a violent jolt of my heart: Greg, its been a long time.

My knuckles were bone-white as I gripped the box. Across the room, my senior advisor, Sarah, must have sensed the shift in the air. She hesitated before speaking. "Is it her?"

I didn't answer. I just kept my head down, focusing on the training schedules on my desk, though the words were blurring into meaningless ink.

Sarah sighed. "I heard she put in for a transfer from the West Coast command. Shes back, Greg. Are you really going to keep doing this?"

"Doing what?" I asked, my voice flat.

"Avoiding the inevitable. Youre going to be colleagues again. And she was once your sister's best"

"Sarah."

I cut her off, my pen digging so hard into the paper it tore.

"In my sisters life, there was no such person."

Sarah looked at me, her expression pitying. "Greg, its been five years. Do you still hate her that much?"

"Yes."

The word was sharp, cold, and final. Sarah winced, shook her head, and quietly stepped out of the office.

On my way out for the day, I ran into the Base Commander. She had been the instructor for both Natalie and Maria back at the Academy. After a brief briefing on the days exercises, her tone shifted, becoming uncharacteristically soft.

"The orders came through today. Maria is officially back with the Eastern Command."

"Understood, Ma'am," I said.

The Commander stood silent for a few seconds. "Your sister was a soldier with a massive heart, Greg. If she were here, she wouldn't want this bitterness to consume you."

Consumer me? Is that what people think? That the victim has to be the one to offer grace just to prove they have a 'big heart'?

I don't understand why everyone is whispering for me to let it go. Does time somehow scrub away the blood? Im the one standing on the moral high ground, yet Im the one being held hostage by terms like "the bigger picture" and "comradery."

Comrade. Leader. Friend.

Why is everyone speaking for her? I dont want to understand her side, and I refuse to try.

The early winter wind bit at my face as I walked to the parking lot. By the time I reached my driveway, I had carefully smoothed my expression into a mask of normalcy.

Inside, my parents and Tessa were in the kitchen making dinner. My three-year-old, Zoe, was sitting on a stool, her small hands covered in flour, poking holes in a lump of dough.

"Daddy!"

Zoe dropped her dough and lunged for me. I scooped her up, kissing her dusty cheek. She held up her mangled creation with pride. "I made a biscuit for Auntie Nat!"

My throat tightened, a sudden, familiar ache.

"Good job, sweetie. It looks delicious."

When dinner was served, I filled a small plate and set it at the empty seat at the table. A neatly folded, older-style service uniform sat on the chairit hadn't been moved in five years. We kept it there like she was just away on a long deployment, a mission shed be back from any minute.

Zoe tugged at my sleeve. "Daddy, why does Auntie Nat only stay in the picture frame?"

"Why doesn't she come down to eat?"

"When is she gonna play with me?"

I looked at the photo on the wall. Natalie was frozen at twenty-four, her bars gleaming on her shoulders, her smile bright enough to break your heart.

The room went silent. My parents' hands faltered for a second before they went back to their plates. Tessa reached out under the table and squeezed my hand.

I stroked Zoes hair, looking into her clear, innocent eyes. I couldn't find the words.

If Natalie were here, shed be the perfect daughter, the best sister, the most amazing aunt. But there are no ifs in the cemetery.

For five years, I thought Id buried those memories along with the woman who caused them. I was wrong. It only took one box of pecans for the wound to rip wide open.

The next morning, the moment I stepped into the training center, I ran straight into her.

Five years hadn't dimmed Maria. If anything, her edges were sharper. The softness of our youth was gone, replaced by a cold, striking beauty and the unmistakable, suffocating aura of a Special Ops veteran.

A group of soldiers passed us, saluting me. I was so paralyzed I forgot to return the gesture. My eyes were locked on her face, and it felt like a giant hand was crushing my lungs.

A dark, intrusive thought flickered in my mind: If only it had been her in that grave five years ago. If only Natalie were the one standing here today.

"How have you been, Greg?"

Maria spoke first. Her voice was steady, devoid of the emotion I was currently drowning in.

I turned to walk away, but she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was iron. She was frowning, a hint of suppressed desperation in her eyes.

"Greg, stop. I know I messed up back then, but Im not some monster. I haven't forgotten what your family did for me. Ive carried that debt every single day. Can we just... let the past stay in the past?"

I spun around, staring into her eyes. The hatred in me exploded, hot and stinging behind my eyelids.

"You think its that simple? You think you just get to decide when its over?"

Her frown deepened. "Greg, I know youre angry. But its been five years"

"Time doesn't change the facts, Maria!"

She was silent for a moment.

"What happened between me and Brooks... Im sorry. To you, and to Natalie."

She looked at me with an agonizing sincerity.

"The only reason I transferred back was to apologize to your faces."

That was the fuse. Five years of repressed rage caught fire. I wrenched my hand away with enough force to make her stumble.

"Don't you dare say her name!"

My voice was a ragged whisper, and finally, the tears spilled over. I didn't wait for a response. I turned and bolted.

I had just made it into my office when the door slammed open. It was Riley, a close friend whod just returned from a rotation at the border. She had been in Natalies unit back in the day.

She grabbed my arm, seeing my red eyes. "I heard she was back. I finished my debrief early and hauled ass over here."

She searched my face. "You saw her?"

I nodded.

Riley started rolling up her sleeves, her eyes flashing. "That bitch really has the nerve. Im going to go out there and break her arm. Right now."

I pulled her back, shaking my head.

Riley stopped, looking at my pale face, her own eyes welling up. "Greg, if it wasn't for your parents and Natalie, she wouldn't have even finished the Academy. They paid for her mothers funeral. They treated her like blood."

"And she turned around and climbed into bed with Natalie's fianc."

"People like that... they should be court-martialed for treason against the heart."

The pain in my chest was a dull, rhythmic throb. Riley was right. Maria Vincent deserved a reckoning that life hadn't given her yet.

Back then, Maria was Natalies best friend. They were inseparable. Maria came from nothingher father died in the line of duty, and her mother was chronically ill. When her mom passed during our sophomore year, Maria didn't even have the money for a casket. Natalie went to our parents, begging for help.

My parents, being the people they are, didn't just pay for the funeral. They became her safety net. Later, Maria worked herself to the bone to pay them back every cent, with interest. She even spent two years tutoring me in military theory to show her gratitude.

We thought we had gained a family member. We thought we were looking at a woman of honor.

We never imagined she would be the one to push our family into the abyss.

And then there was Brooks. The man who was supposed to be my brother-in-law, the man who became the wedge between Maria and me.

He was in the military bandcharming, soft-spoken, exactly the kind of guy my parents loved. Back then, Maria and I were already engaged. The invitations were printed.

But at every party, every dinner, I started noticing the way Brooks looked at Maria. It wasn't right. It was a look of hungry, desperate longing. He never looked at Natalie like that.

I tried to mention it to Maria a few times. Shed just laugh and ruffle my hair. "What are you imagining, Greg?"

"Hes your future brother-in-law. Theres a code, remember? Im not that kind of person."

Shed tease me, saying if Natalie knew I was being so paranoid, shed think Maria was a bad influence. She was so convincing that I buried my instinct.

But soon, they stopped hiding it well. The flirting became constant, even in front of me. Once, Brooks handed Maria his half-finished water bottle, and she drank from it without a second thought.

My heart sank into my stomach.

Maria and I had a blowout fight about it. "Are you really doing this? To Natalie? To me?"

She stayed silent for a long time before looking up, promising me shed keep her distance from him.

For a while, she did. But the air between us turned cold. The intimacy didn't just fade; it vanished.

Three days before the wedding, I went to our new apartment to set up some decorations. I punched in the code and opened the door.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

The bedroom door was wide open. On the custom red silk sheetsa gift for our wedding nighttwo figures were tangled together.

Uniforms were scattered like debris across the floor.

The box of decorations slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a deafening metallic crash.

Maria bolted upright, her face draining of all color when she saw me at the door.

"Get out!" she barked, her voice a low, defensive snarl.

I was shaking so hard I could barely stand. I turned and ran, stumbling down the stairs into the hallway.

My phone buzzed. A text from Brooks:

Sorry, little brother. Some things just cant be held onto.

I collapsed in the stairwell, sobbing until I couldn't breathe. How could they? To me? To Natalie?

Natalie. She had to know.

I reached for my phone with trembling hands, but before I could dial, a call came in. Natalie had been in a horrific accident.

The world went black.

Natalie was in the ICU in a coma for seven days. The military surgeon stood beside me, his voice a low rumble of clinical grief.

"Her brain activity suggests she might be conscious, Greg. But the trauma is too severe; her body simply can't respond." He adjusted his glasses. "Talk to her. If she has the will to live, theres a chance she might come back."

I nodded, my throat too tight for words. "What caused the crash?"

"Preliminary report says excessive speed. She lost control on a sharp curve."

Speed. Natalie was the most cautious driver I knew. Unless something had shattered her focus.

Three days later, the police returned her phone. It was cracked but functional. I held it for a long time before typing in the code.

It was Brookss birthday.

There was one unread notification on her messaging app. It was from Brooks, sent the very hour I had caught them.

I played the voice memo.

The sound of his disgusting moans and Marias heavy breathing filled the quiet hospital room.

I barely made it to the trash can before I was retching. Tears mixed with stomach acid as I collapsed onto the sterile tile floor. The smell of bleach was suddenly overwhelming, stinging my nose and searing my brain.

So that was it. She had heard that recording. She had heard them, lost her mind, and sped home to find the truth.

They killed her.

I wiped my face, deleted the recording, and cleared the trash folder. I kept the secret. I didn't tell my parents; they were already broken enough.

I spent every day by her bed, talking to her. I told her stories from our childhood, gossip from the base, anything to keep the air filled with sound. But I never mentioned Maria or Brooks.

A week in, her finger twitched.

Before I could even call for a nurse, Brooks appeared. Through the ICU glass, I saw him standing over her bed, leaning down and whispering something. When he saw me, he had the audacity to smile.

"Hey, Greg. I was just catching Natalie up. Telling her how much were looking forward to your wedding with Maria."

"She needs to hurry up and get better so we can all celebrate together."

The provocation was so blatant, so cruel, that I saw red. I hadn't made a scene yet, but that didn't mean Id forgotten what hed done.

I didn't even realize I was moving until I had him by the collar. I slammed him against the wall and buried my knee in his stomach.

Brooks gasped, sliding down the wall.

"Greg, have you lost your mind!" Maria screamed, charging into the room.

I tried to speak, but the words were caught in a knot of rage.

Suddenly, Brooks let out a pathetic moan. "Maria... my stomach... it hurts..."

Maria glared at me with pure venom. She knelt down, her voice dripping with a tenderness shed never shown me. "Don't worry, baby. You're okay. We're going to get a doctor."

I watched them disappear around the corner, their footsteps echoing away. I stood there, alone.

Brooks was fine, of course. The doctor said he was just "shaken up."

I was at my breaking point. But for the sake of my parents, I swallowed the glass and kept moving.

That afternoon, after sending my exhausted parents home to rest, I walked back toward the ICU.

I stopped dead at the glass.

They were in there. Brooks and Maria, locked in a deep, passionate kiss.

Right at the foot of my sisters bed.

I was paralyzed. Then I heard Brookss muffled voice. "When Natalie wakes up, Im sure shell want us to be happy."

Maria held him tighter. "As soon as shes stable, well tell her the truth."

The words had barely left her mouth when the monitor let out a long, piercing shriek.

Natalies fingers curled violently. The rhythmic mountain range of her EKG flattened into a single, terrifying horizon.

"Doctor! Code Blue!" I screamed, lunging for the door.

The hallway erupted. Doctors and nurses swarmed the room like white-winged birds. Everything was a blur of crashing equipment and tangled wires.

The sound of the defibrillator echoed. "Clear! Two hundred joules!"

"Again! Three hundred!"

I charged into the room, shoving Maria and Brooks aside with a primal roar. "Get out! Get the hell out of here!"

Marias face was ghostly. She tried to say something, but the sheer madness in my eyes drove her back. She grabbed Brooks and retreated.

The door slammed shut.

I collapsed in the corner, the tears finally comingsilent and devastating. The alarm kept ringing, a hammer hitting the final nail into my heart.

"Nat, please," I whispered. "Please don't go. Don't leave me here with them."

I got on my knees and begged whatever god was listening.

But no one was listening.

I watched as the woman who had spent her whole life protecting me was wheeled into the morgue. An hour later, all that was left of her was a handful of ash.

...

I couldn't stay here. Being in the same command as Maria was an impossible weight. I decided to put in for leave to go home.

As I waited for the elevator, the doors slid open. Maria was there. She didn't just walk out; she practically lunged at me, her hands gripping my shoulders.

Her voice was trembling, her eyes bloodshot.

"Greg... why is everyone saying... why are they saying your sister is dead?"