My Boyfriend Was Dating My Sister and Me at the Same Time – Karma Hit Him So Fast He Didn’t Even See It Coming

It rang once and went to voicemail.

“Nick, what’s going on?” I said into the phone. “I’ve already reserved the table.”

No response.

I felt the sting behind my eyes but refused to cry. Not wanting to waste money, I went anyway.

I told myself to at least eat the dessert I’d been saving for us.

But when I stepped into the restaurant, I froze.

Kathy was sitting near the back, twisting her straw between her fingers.

“Nick, what’s going on?”

She looked up and smiled as I approached. “Lucy? What are you doing here?”

“I had plans,” I said slowly. “You?”

She let out a short laugh. “Oh my gosh, sweetie, you won’t believe this. I invited the guy I’ve been seeing on a date, and he canceled at the last second. Literally minutes before!”

Something inside me tightened.

“What guy? Show him to me,” I said, forcing a smile.

When Kathy handed me her phone, I almost lost my mind!

…he canceled at the last second.

There he was, my Nick.

He was smiling in the selfie, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his lips pressed to her cheek. He wore the same gray sweater he had worn to my apartment the week before.

“But he’s my boyfriend,” I whispered. “Didn’t he tell you?”

Kathy’s smile vanished. “What?” Her hand flew to her mouth.

“No. We’ve been dating for over six months. He’s sweet, but he hates drama and doesn’t talk about his past. He said he’s focused on building something real.”

“But he’s my boyfriend.”

I stopped breathing.

“I’ve been with him for a year,” I said, my voice shaking. My hand moved to my stomach before I could stop it. “And I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “Lucy…”

We stared at each other as the noise of the restaurant faded into the background.

Then Kathy straightened in her chair. “We’re not fighting over him or turning this into some sister drama. We need to figure out what’s really going on.”

I nodded, even though my chest felt tight.

We started comparing details.

I stopped breathing.

We shared the same pet names. We heard the same excuses about client dinners and experienced the same “last-minute emergencies.”

He’d never met our parents or friends, so he clearly wasn’t aware that we were sisters. He kept his worlds separate on purpose.

By some insane coincidence, we’d both invited him to the same restaurant on Valentine’s Day.

Suddenly, Kathy grabbed my hand and said firmly, “I have an idea on how to teach him a lesson. Listen carefully. This is what you need to do. Get a hold of his precious notebook.”

We shared the same pet names.

We quickly discovered that we both knew about and had seen his little black book.

Nick claimed he used it to keep track of his clients, but we strongly suspected it might be more than that.

That was when I made my first real decision.

“I’m not waiting for him to confess,” I said. “I’m going to find out how far this goes.”

Kathy leaned forward. “You think there are more women?”

“Yes,” I said. “And if there are, that book might have the proof.”

“I’m not waiting for him to confess.”

Kathy shook her head.

“Yep. No one guards a client list like that. And if the book isn’t what we think it is, then we have to try to copy his phone contacts.”

I agreed, and we built a plan over melted dessert and untouched coffee.

***

Nick and I already had plans for the following week to make up for Valentine’s Day. I texted him that night.

“I can’t wait to see you next week,” I wrote.

He replied within minutes. “Me too. I miss you!”

The lie almost made me laugh.

Kathy shook her head.

When the day arrived, I forced myself to act normally. I wore the blue dress he liked and let him kiss my cheek when he arrived at my apartment.

“I’m so sorry about last week,” he said smoothly. “My boss threw a last-minute meeting at me. You know big clients don’t care about holidays.”

I smiled, but inside I felt something harden.

While he showered that evening, his jacket sat on the edge of my couch. The black notebook peeked out of the inside pocket.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

…I forced myself to act normally.

I slipped the notebook into my tote bag and carefully placed his jacket exactly where it had been. When he came out, toweling his hair, he studied me.

“You seem quiet,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“I’m just tired,” I replied. “Work’s been a lot.”

He accepted that.

After he left, I locked the door and called Kathy.

“I have it,” I whispered.

She arrived 20 minutes later, her face tense with anticipation.

“Everything okay?”