What Secrets Show

The problem with Thanksgiving at Wesley's family's house was the lighting.

His mother believed in overhead fixtures. Bright ones. The kind that made every shadow in the dining room sharp and honest and impossible to hide.

Bridget sat next to Wesley at the long table, their chairs close enough that their shadows should have been overlapping. Touching. Showing connection.

Wesley's shadow kept reaching toward his pocket. Mimicking the motion of checking his phone even though Wesley's hands were folded on the table.

"More turkey, Wesley?" His Aunt Diane was watching him. Or watching his shadow. Hard to tell which.

"I'm good, thanks."

His shadow reached for his pocket again. Restless. Like it wanted to text someone.

Bridget's shadow looked at the wall. At the window. At anywhere except the table. Bored. Disengaged. Like she was thinking about being somewhere else entirely.

They'd been married six years. Good marriage. Happy marriage. Just not the kind you explained to Grandma Ruth over candied yams.

They had an arrangement. An understanding. They saw other people. Kept it casual. Kept it physical. No emotional attachments. No complications.

The rule was simple: don't ask, don't tell, and definitely don't exchange names.

"Names make it feel like a relationship," Bridget had said when they'd opened their marriage. "This isn't about relationships. It's about being honest about what we want while staying committed to each other."

It worked. For six years, it worked.

Except their shadows were terrible at performing monogamy.

"Bridget, honey, you seem distracted," Wesley's mother said. Her shadow was perfectly aligned with her body. Years of practice. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Just tired from work."

Bridget's shadow stared at the window like it wanted to climb through it and run.

"When's Renée getting here?" Grandma Ruth asked. "I thought she was bringing that boyfriend."

"Should be soon," Bridget said. "Jordan's coming straight from work. They're running late."

Wesley's shadow reached toward his pocket again. Fidgeting.

Bridget didn't notice. Her shadow was still looking away, thinking about conference guy. About the hotel room two weeks ago. About hands and skin and the way he'd—

"Bridget?" Wesley's voice pulled her back. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

She wasn't thinking about Wesley. That was the point. That was the agreement.

But her shadow was being obvious about it.

Uncle Paul was watching both of them now. His shadow leaned forward slightly. Curious.

"You two seem... distracted today," he said carefully.

"Just a long week," Wesley said.

His shadow reached for his pocket again. Restless. Like it couldn't stop thinking about texting someone.

"Expecting a message?" Aunt Diane asked.

"No. Just. No."

But his shadow kept reaching. Kept wanting to check his phone. To see if gym guy had texted.

Bridget knew Wesley was seeing someone. Didn't know who. Didn't want to know. That was the rule. But she could tell by the way he'd been checking his phone all week. The way he'd been to the gym more often. The way his shadow kept acting like this.

Wesley knew Bridget was seeing someone too. Could tell by the way she'd been traveling more for "work conferences." The way she came home smelling like hotel soap. The way her shadow looked right now—bored at this table because she was thinking about being somewhere else.

They didn't talk about it. That was the whole point. Don't ask, don't tell.

The doorbell rang.

Wesley's shadow was reaching for his pocket. Still restless. Still thinking about gym guy.

Bridget's shadow finally looked back at the table. At Wesley's shadow fidgeting.

Nothing seemed connected. Just two people thinking about two different someones.

"I'll get it," Wesley's mother said, standing.

Bridget heard her sister's voice first. "Sorry we're late! Traffic was terrible."

Then a male voice. Familiar. "Thanks for having me, Mrs. Hartley. These are for you."

Bridget's blood went cold.

Wesley had gone completely still.

Their mother appeared in the doorway. "Everyone, this is Renée's boyfriend, Jordan."

Jordan walked into the dining room holding flowers. Saw the family gathered around the table. Smiled that easy smile.

Then he saw Wesley.

The smile froze.

Then he saw Bridget next to Wesley.

"Oh fuck," Jordan said.

His shadow crossed the room before he could stop it. Didn't walk. Ran. Straight to the table where Wesley and Bridget were sitting.

Wesley's shadow met it halfway. Embraced it immediately. The way shadows do when they've been separated and finally found each other again.

Bridget's shadow stood up from her chair. Joined them. Three shadows wrapped around each other like they'd done this before. Like they knew each other intimately.

The dining room went completely silent.

Renée was still in the doorway, holding her purse. "Jordan? Do you know—"

She saw the shadows. Her boyfriend's shadow tangled with her sister's and her brother-in-law's.

"What the fuck is happening?" Renée's voice was very quiet.

Jordan was staring at Wesley and Bridget. At the two people sitting next to each other. "You're married? To each other?"

"You're Jordan?" Wesley's voice came out strangled. "Renée's Jordan?"

"You never told me your names!"

"That's our rule!" Bridget said. "We don't do names!"

"WELL MAYBE THAT RULE NEEDS FUCKING REVISION."

Renée walked slowly into the room. Looked at her boyfriend. At her sister. At her brother-in-law. At their three shadows still embracing like they couldn't bear to separate.

"Someone," she said carefully, "needs to explain what's happening right now."

"I didn't know," Jordan said immediately. "Jesus Christ, I swear I didn't know you two were married to each other."

"But you knew you were sleeping with both of them?" Renée's voice had gone very flat.

"I didn't know they were RELATED to you! I didn't know they were married! They never told me their names!"

"You've been sleeping with my sister?"

"I didn't know she was your sister!"

"And Wesley?"

"I REALLY didn't know he was married to your sister!"

Aunt Diane cleared her throat. "Well. This is messier than I expected."

Everyone turned to look at her.

"You expected this?" Uncle Paul asked.

"Not THIS specifically. But I've been watching their shadows all evening. Wesley's kept reaching for his phone like he wanted to text someone. Bridget's looked bored and checked out, thinking about being somewhere else. I figured they were both seeing other people." She gestured at the three shadows still wrapped around each other. "I did not expect them to be seeing the same person."

"You KNEW?" Wesley asked.

"Honey, we've known about your arrangement for about three years," his mother said. She was putting the flowers in water like nothing was wrong. "Your shadows make it very obvious."

"We thought you knew we knew," Uncle Paul added. "We were just being polite. Pretending we didn't notice."

Grandma Ruth stood up from the table. "I need more wine for this conversation."

Renée was still standing in the middle of the room. Her shadow had backed toward the door. Away from everyone. "You've been sleeping with my boyfriend. Both of you."

"We didn't know he was your boyfriend," Bridget said. "We don't ask names. We don't ask about people's lives. That's the rule."

"The rule." Renée laughed. It didn't sound amused. "The rule that resulted in you fucking my boyfriend for six months without knowing it was my boyfriend?"

"Eight months," Wesley said quietly. "For me."

"Oh, EIGHT months. That's so much better."

Jordan's shadow finally let go of Wesley's and Bridget's. Backed away. Stood alone in the middle of the floor looking lost.

"I thought you were single," Jordan said to Wesley. "You never wore a ring. You never mentioned anyone."

"I'm in an open marriage. That was the whole point. No emotional attachment. No complications."

"And you." Jordan looked at Bridget. "You said you traveled for work. You never mentioned living here. Never mentioned family."

"Because we don't TALK about our lives! That's the boundary! That's how we keep it from getting complicated!"

"IT'S COMPLICATED NOW."

Renée sat down in an empty chair. Her shadow slumped against the wall behind her. "You brought him to family Thanksgiving. Both of you. Without knowing."

"We weren't bringing him," Bridget said. "You were."

"And you were fucking him the entire time I was dating him."

"We didn't know you were dating him!"

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T ASK NAMES." Renée's voice cracked. "Because your rule, your perfect little don't-ask-don't-tell rule, meant neither of you had any idea you were sleeping with the same person. Who happens to be MY person."

Wesley's mother returned with wine. Poured a glass for Renée. Then Bridget. Then Jordan. Then herself.

"So," she said. "Do we want to talk about this or do we want to eat pie and pretend this didn't happen?"

"I vote pie," Aunt Diane said.

"We're not pretending this didn't happen," Renée said. She looked at Jordan. "How long were you planning to date me while sleeping with two other people?"

"I didn't think we were exclusive," Jordan said weakly. "You never said—"

"I BROUGHT YOU TO MEET MY FAMILY."

"I know, but you never actually said the word exclusive, so I thought—"

"You thought you could keep fucking my sister and her husband on the side?"

"I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE YOUR SISTER AND HER HUSBAND."

Grandma Ruth returned with pie. Started cutting slices like this was a normal family dinner. "Anyone want ice cream?"

Three shadows stood in the middle of the floor. Not touching anymore. Just existing in the same space. Honest. Unable to hide what they'd been doing.

What they'd all been doing.

Bridget looked at Wesley. "Eight months?"

"You?"

"Six."

"Jesus." Wesley ran his hand through his hair. "We've been sleeping with the same person for six months and neither of us noticed?"

"How would we notice? We don't talk about who we're seeing. That's the whole point."

"Conference guy," Bridget said weakly. "I called you conference guy in my head."

"Gym guy," Wesley said. "That's what I called you."

Jordan put his head back in his hands. "This keeps getting worse."

"For YOU?" Renée's voice was sharp. "Try being the person who just found out her boyfriend is sleeping with her sister."

"And her brother-in-law," Uncle Paul added helpfully.

"NOT HELPING, PAUL."

Bridget's shadow had moved back to the table. Sat next to Wesley's shadow. Both of them looking at Jordan's shadow, which stood alone in the middle of the floor.

"What were you thinking?" Bridget asked Jordan. "Dating Renée while sleeping with two other people?"

"I was thinking I was single and keeping my options open! I didn't realize I was accidentally dating an entire FAMILY."

"We're not dating," Wesley said. "We have rules. No names. No emotions. Just—"

"Just what? Just sex with strangers who turn out to be married to each other?" Jordan looked at him. "Those are terrible rules."

"They worked fine until you showed up."

"I've BEEN showing up. For eight months. You just didn't know where I was going afterward."

Aunt Diane accepted her slice of pie. "I have a question."

Everyone looked at her.

"Did any of you use protection?"

The silence was deafening.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Renée said.

Wesley's mother sat down with her own pie. "I think we all need to have a very long, very awkward conversation about boundaries and communication. But first, I'm going to eat my pie. Everyone else should too. You'll think better with food."

Nobody moved.

The three shadows remained in the middle of the floor. Not touching. Not hiding. Just there. Honest in a way their people hadn't been.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Jordan said finally. "I really didn't. I liked you." He looked at Renée. "I like you. I was going to. I was planning to ask if we could be exclusive. After today. After meeting your family."

"Well you MET my family," Renée said. "How'd that go for you?"

Jordan's shadow moved toward Renée's. Not to embrace. Just to stand near it. To show what he couldn't quite say.

Renée's shadow didn't move away. But it didn't move closer either.

"I don't know what to do with this," Renée said. "Any of this."

"Neither do we," Bridget said quietly.

They sat there. Six people and their shadows. The performance completely shattered. No more pretending. No more performing monogamy or ignorance or normalcy.

Just the mess. The complicated, tangled, honest mess.

"Pie's getting cold," Grandma Ruth said.

Slowly, people started eating. Not because anyone was hungry. Just because it gave them something to do with their hands while they figured out what the fuck happened next.

Wesley's shadow was still looking at Jordan's. Bridget's was too. Jordan's shadow looked at both of theirs, then at Renée's, like it couldn't decide where it wanted to be.

Turned out shadows could be confused too.

"For what it's worth," Uncle Paul said, "this is way more interesting than last year's Thanksgiving."

"Last year Janet brought her pyramid scheme," Aunt Diane said. "This is definitely worse."

"Or better," Paul said. "Depends on your perspective."

Renée started laughing. Not happy laughing. The kind of laughing you do when the alternative is screaming.

"This is insane," she said. "This is actually insane."

"Yes," her mother agreed. "But it's our insane. And we'll figure it out."

"How?"

"I have no idea. But we will."

Jordan looked at Wesley and Bridget. "So. Now what?"

"Now," Wesley said, "I guess we talk about it. Actually talk. With names and details and all the things we've been avoiding."

"I don't want to talk about it," Bridget said. "I want to go back to three hours ago when I didn't know my sister's boyfriend was the same person I've been—" She stopped.

Jordan's face was red. "This is the worst family dinner I've ever attended."

"You should have been here when Wesley came out," Aunt Diane said. "That was uncomfortable."

"This is worse," Wesley said.

"This is definitely worse," his mother agreed.

They finished their pie in silence. The kind of silence that happens when everyone has too much to say and no idea how to start.

The three shadows stayed in the middle of the floor. Not touching. Not hiding. Just existing together in the truth.

Sometimes that's all shadows can do. Show what is. Show what was. Show what everyone tried to pretend wasn't happening until it became impossible to ignore.

"I should go," Jordan said finally.

"No." Renée's voice surprised everyone, including herself. "You should stay. We're going to talk about this. All of us. Tonight. Because if I go home without understanding how this happened, I'm going to lose my mind."

"Okay."

"But I need everyone to be honest. Completely honest. No more rules about not sharing names or details or feelings. No more performing. If we're going to figure this out, we need to actually KNOW what happened."

Bridget and Wesley looked at each other. Six years of don't-ask-don't-tell. Six years of performing perfect marriage in front of family while keeping everything else separate. Private. Safe.

All of it falling apart over one person they'd both been sleeping with without knowing.

"Okay," Bridget said. "We'll be honest."

"All of us," Wesley added, looking at Jordan.

Jordan nodded.

Their shadows stayed tangled in the middle of the floor. Waiting to see what happened when people finally stopped performing and started telling the truth.

Even when the truth was messy. Even when it hurt. Even when it complicated everything they'd worked so hard to keep simple.

Especially then.

Because shadows don't lie. And eventually, neither can the people who cast them.