MY SISTER LEFT HER PHONE ON THE COUCH AND IT SHOWED A PHOTO OF MARK
The vibrating phone skittered across the polished wood table, sending my heart into a sudden, frantic rhythm.
I picked it up, intending to hand it back to her, but the lock screen lit up just then with a notification from Mark. Not *my* Mark, obviously, but a clear, close-up photo of *him* laughing. My stomach dropped, instantly turning to a cold, churning pit of disbelief, the entire room suddenly spinning around me.
“What exactly is this?” I hissed, clutching the device, my knuckles white against the too-bright screen, the metal casing feeling oddly warm against my palm. She snatched it back so fast, her eyes wide and guilty, a deep flush rising quickly on her cheeks. “It’s nothing, you’re completely overreacting, put it down right now!” she stammered, her voice thin and reedy.
“Nothing?” I laughed, a raw, bitter sound that tasted like pure ash in my mouth, the kind that scrapes the back of your throat. “Mark and *you*? You’ve been meeting him at the old coffee shop, haven’t you? I saw his car there, parked around the back alley last Tuesday morning!” The air around us felt impossibly thick and suffocating, a wave of sickening heat washing over me. I could barely breathe.
She stared at me, frozen in place, her usual confident, almost smug smirk completely gone now. The silence stretched between us, heavy and accusing, punctuated only by my ragged breathing, before she finally whispered something, so low I almost didn’t hear it, that absolutely shattered everything I thought I knew.
Then the front door creaked open, and Mark walked in carrying roses.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*”It’s… it’s a surprise,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible over the sudden rush of blood in my ears. “We were planning a surprise for you.”
My breath hitched. A surprise? My mind, still reeling from the image of Mark on her phone and the bitter taste of betrayal, couldn’t grasp it. “A surprise? What are you talking about?”
Just then, the front door creaked open. Mark stood there, a broad smile on his face, holding a ridiculously large bouquet of red roses. He looked from my sister’s pale, flustered face to mine, etched with disbelief and accusation, his smile faltering.
“Hey,” he said, his voice tentative. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”
My sister took a shaky breath, pushing past me. “She saw the photo, Mark. And she thinks—”
“Thinks what?” Mark asked, setting the roses carefully on the hall table, his brow furrowed with concern. “Darling, what is it?” He took a step towards me, reaching out his hand.
I flinched back slightly, still caught in the whirlwind of suspicion. “Your photo… on her phone… the coffee shop…”
Mark looked utterly bewildered, then glanced at my sister, who gave a small, apologetic shrug. A slow understanding dawned on his face, and a sheepish grin spread across his lips. “Oh,” he said softly. “Right. That.”
He turned back to me, his eyes full of affection. “The photo is… well, I sent it to her because I thought it was a good one for the slideshow. For the party.”
“The party?” I repeated, feeling utterly lost.
My sister stepped forward, finding her voice again now that Mark was here. “Yes. Your thirtieth birthday party. We’ve been planning it for weeks. Trying to keep it a complete secret.”
My jaw must have dropped. “My… birthday party?”
Mark nodded eagerly. “We wanted it to be a huge surprise. Remember how you said you wished you’d done something bigger for your twenty-fifth? We booked the venue, invited everyone… and she,” he gestured to my sister, “has been coordinating all the logistics, including getting photos from people for a surprise slideshow.”
My sister added quickly, “I was meeting Mark at the coffee shop last Tuesday because it was the only place we could talk freely without you potentially overhearing us discussing venues or guest lists. The photo… I guess I just saved it because it was linked to the slideshow planning, and you opened my phone at exactly the wrong second.” She rubbed her temples, looking utterly exhausted. “I grabbed the phone so fast because I was terrified you’d see something else and the surprise would be ruined. My whisper… I meant to say ‘It’s a surprise for you,’ but I think I just got out ‘It’s a surprise’ and then panicked.”
The tension in the room evaporated, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief and, honestly, embarrassment. My cold, churning stomach settled, and the spinning room righted itself. I looked at my sister, her face no longer guilty but weary and a little exasperated. I looked at Mark, his smile back, radiating warmth and love.
“You… you guys were planning a surprise party?” I stammered, feeling tears well up – not of hurt, but of sheer emotional whiplash and sudden, profound gratitude.
Mark stepped forward and gently took my hands. “We were. A big one. And you just accidentally found out the main co-conspirators.” He squeezed my hands. “I’m sorry we were so secretive. We just wanted it to be perfect.”
I let out a watery laugh, shaking my head. “I thought… I thought you two…”
My sister came over and wrapped an arm around me. “Me and Mark? Seriously? You think I’d ever cross that line, especially with *your* Mark?” Her voice was gentle now. “Never. I love you, even if you are a paranoid wreck sometimes.”
I hugged her back tightly, mumbling an apology into her shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry. I just… my mind went straight there.”
She patted my back. “It’s okay. Just try not to snoop on my phone next time, okay?”
I pulled back, wiping my eyes, and turned to Mark. He was smiling, relief clear in his eyes. He picked up the roses from the table and held them out to me. “These were meant to be a ‘just because’ gift tonight, not part of the big reveal, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag on multiple fronts.”
I took the beautiful bouquet, burying my face in the fragrant petals for a moment. When I looked up, my heart felt light again, the heavy weight of suspicion completely lifted. My sister chuckled softly beside me.
“Well,” she said, looking between us. “Now that you know, I guess we can start talking about the details. The theme is ‘Roaring Twenties’, by the way. Start thinking about your outfit.”
I smiled, a genuine, happy smile spreading across my face for the first time in minutes. “Roaring Twenties? Okay, you two. You’re forgiven. But you owe me for the heart attack.” Mark grinned, pulling me into a warm embrace, the scent of roses filling the air, and everything felt right again.