But it was not the truth that tore mine apart.

It was the three years we spent living inside a lie.

The truth, when it finally came, only turned the lights on, and yes, the light showed us something ugly, but it also set us free, free from mistaking love for fear, and family for obligation.

I still leave flowers on Sebastian’s grave.

Not because he was my husband; he never was, and I will not pretend otherwise.

I bring them because he stood up for what was right when his own twin would not, and because for three long years his memory was held hostage by the person who had wronged him most.