Megan sighed as she pushed a piece of chicken around on her plate for the fifth time in as many minutes. The meal had been wonderful, but her appetite wasn’t in it. This was supposedly their three month anniversary dinner; herself and John.

Three months, since the day they had first laid eyes on one another across a quiet courtyard one chilly late September morning. Fate, she supposed; they had both travelled from opposite ends of the country to attend the same training course. Megan had been surprised when the tall, handsome Irishman had come up to her and offered her his gloves to warm her. Megan was unprepared for the interest of a man and secretly delighted that he would talk to her, or be interested in her. The smile of thanks on her lips had stolen his heart, just as his kindness and romanticism did hers over the following weeks. They had dated, sporadically at first, getting to know one another; tentatively exploring the other’s personality and feelings. Megan had been reserved; she had her reasons.

They had dated, she had set boundaries. She had not wanted to fall for the man that was slowly winning her heart. A heavy secret bore over her: When he had told her that he loved her, she had cried tears of joy and anguish. Joy that she knew she felt the same, but anguish that she could never tell him. Not with her own personal sword of Damocles perched precariously above her head.

Every single time the words had left his lips, she had longed to repeat them before their lips met. Every time he held her hand and made her feel special, she had felt the pang of guilt. It had to end: It had to end tonight.

“What’s wrong darling?” John asked reaching across the table to stroke Megan’s fingers.

Megan retracted her fingers, placing them demurely on her lap. “Nothing.” She smiled weakly. “I’m just thinking.”

John frowned softly. “You look worried.” He offered, “Have I done something?”

Megan shook her head. “No John. It’s nothing, really.” She smiled falsely, drinking deeply from her wine glass to break the awkward silence that permeated their conversation.

* * *

The meal continued, much as it had, and desert came and went. The couple chatted pleasantly, Megan’s distance and evasiveness forgotten for the moment. The bill paid, the couple quietly left the small restaurant and walked silently out into the quiet, snow covered town square.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” John asked softly, wrapping his arms around Megan’s waist as she opened her handbag.

“Everything and Nothing.” Megan sighed, lighting a cigarette as she tugged the hem of her dress lower against the cold night air.

“You seemed distracted tonight.” John observed. “Didn’t you enjoy it? We won’t come here again,” he offered reassuringly. “It was just an idea to check this place out.”

Megan shook her head and exhaled, the smoke drifting lazily in the cold air. “No, dinner was lovely,” she said turning to face the man she knew she loved with all her heart. “I’m just… well my mind was elsewhere, it’s my fault.”

John squeezed Megan tighter to him as the couple stood in the quiet night air. Megan stubbed out the butt of her cigarette and lit another, jabbing it into her mouth with shaking hands. “Jesus,” She muttered. “I’m all over the damn place tonight.”

“What’s wrong? Really?” John asked, frustrated with her evasiveness. “Tell me please Megan.”

Lifting his hands from her belly, she walked several steps away from John before turning to look at him. Mascara trails stained her cheeks as she stood; staring mournfully back at the man she loved.

“John, look…we need to talk.” She whispered quietly. “About me.”

John’s expression melted from confusion to concern. “What is it?” he asked nervously. “Is it about us?”

Megan shook her head softly. Her brunette waves swaying gently with the movement. “No John, Just me…. Let me talk please, this is hard to say.”

Megan drew on her second cigarette and sighed. “John, I’ve wanted to say something to you for the last few weeks… ever since I realised that I really, truly, loved you.”

“Aw baby.” John smiled adoringly as he stepped towards Megan, arms open.

Megan took a step back. “Let me finish please!” she pleaded holding up her hands.

“I’m not normal John.” She sighed reluctantly, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I wasn’t born normal, and I grew up feeling terrible… that I didn’t belong.”

Megan took a step back from the man she loved and looked down at her feet before clenching her fists and raising her eyes to meet his. “John, I was born as boy.”

Taking another step backwards, Megan searched for any sign of reaction in John’s deep blue eyes. “Please say something,” she whispered softly, a deep sense of dread filling her heart. “I’m so sorry John.” She moaned quietly.

John smiled reassuringly. “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you,” he shrugged dismissively. “It’s a question I asked myself a while ago; before we met. Would it matter? Would it change how I felt about a girl? I didn’t think so at the time. But now I know. You trusted me to tell me your secret…. It doesn’t matter: I know that for certain, Megan,” he said sincerely. “I love you Megan.” He finished softly. “Nothing will ever change that.”

Dumbfounded, Megan blinked for a moment before flushing deeply. “I don’t deserve you John,” she mumbled quietly.

“You have that wrong.” John replied lovingly. “It’s me that doesn’t deserve someone as brave and as courageous as you. Or as Sexy and intelligent.” He grinned boyishly.

Stepping forwards, John wrapped his arms around the trembling girl before him, squeezing her tightly. As he held her, he felt her body shake with heavy sobs. “Hush,” he soothed as he rubbed her back. “There, there baby, it’s ok.”

Megan cried, but not for fear, or pain, but for joy and relief. Her secret had freed her from the bonds of guilt. It was a new woman that raised her head towards the lips that begged a question she answered with her own.

From the Author: Hey folks, I just wrote this up tonight. It had been on my mind for a while. It was one of those situations that simply cried out to be immortalized on the page of fiction.
I hope you Enjoy it. Miracles do happen.
Alyssa