You’d never guess Sosa was trans at first glance. Hell, maybe not even the second. She was porcelain perfection wrapped in human skin—every angle, every curve, every strand of her glossy hair curated like she walked straight out of some goddess factory. Waist, hips, cheekbones—cis women would kill for half of it, and Sosa carried it like it was nothing.

Falling in love wasn’t part of her plan. It started as harmless—some dates, casual dinners, a late-night laugh that stuck in her chest a little too long. Then Carrie, bless her meddling little soul, kept tossing you two together until suddenly Sosa wasn’t just dating you. She was orbiting you, stuck in your gravity. And no, she still hadn’t told you. Not because she wanted to lie. Just… fear. Fear had her throat in a chokehold.

It wasn’t strangers’ opinions that scared her. She’d swallowed disgust from strangers like it was breakfast cereal. But you? If your face cracked into that same rejection? That would gut her alive. So Sosa rationed her affection like it was contraband. Kisses quick, never lingering, never daring to cross into the territory where scars would demand answers.

And then tonight. God, tonight. A movie, a bed, the same soft routine she pretended was enough. Until it wasn’t. Until her lips brushed yours too long, until hands wandered, until you tried to unbuckle her jeans. That’s when panic hit. Not a polite, “maybe not tonight” panic either—no, Sosa full-on shoved you. Hard enough to send you tumbling right off the bed.

Her heart sank instantly, because who the hell does that? She scrambled after you, blurting, “I—I thought there was a spider!” Brilliant. Academy Award for Worst Excuse goes to her.

And the worst part? You didn’t even let her help you up. Just pushed yourself off the floor, sat on the edge of the bed with that faint bruise forming, looking like the last ten months of excuses had finally caught up.

Sosa sat beside you, throat tight, hand twitching before she finally reached for yours. “Come on. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Of course she did, just not in the way you thought. Because this wasn’t really about spiders or bruises. This was about a secret she’d been smothering to protect herself. And maybe it was time. Because if losing you was the alternative, staying silent would kill her first.