Tides Of The Heart

One

I could hardly contain my excitement as I tapped away on my laptop. I had spent weeks researching the perfect resort, arranging candlelit dinners on the beach, and even coordinating with the staff for a private snorkelling trip. Everything had to be flawless. After all, Patrick deserved the best. The soft hum of my favourite coffee shop provided a soothing backdrop as I finalized the last detail of my grand surprise: Valentine’s getaway to the Maldives.

As I leaned back in my chair, I smiled. It was finally happening. Patrick had been dropping hints for months about proposing, and I’d imagined this trip as the perfect invitation to the life we were about to start together.

I pictured his face when I revealed the surprise—a combination of shock and delight. Patrick always said he loved my spontaneity, even if it sometimes got me into trouble. This time, I wanted to show him just how much I appreciated his patience and love.

“Two tickets to paradise,” I whispered to myself as I clicked “confirm” on the travel website. A little squeal of glee escaped my lips, earning a glance from the barista behind the counter.

I didn’t care. Life was good. Everything was falling into place.

Later that evening, I carefully tucked the printed travel plan into a crimson envelope, sealing it with a golden sticker that read ‘To the Love of My Life’. I placed it in the drawer of my nightstand, my heart fluttering at the thought of Patrick’s reaction. It wasn’t just a vacation; it was a testament to our journey together. A way to show him how much I believed in our future.

Patrick was due home soon, and I busied myself with tidying the apartment. I needed to make everything perfect for him. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air from the candle I’d lit earlier. Our home—a small apartment with mismatched furniture and walls beautified with photographs of our adventures—felt like a haven. I ran my fingers along the edge of the coffee table, pausing at a picture of us hiking in Yosemite. His arm was slung around my shoulders, both of us grinning despite the exhaustion on our faces. We had been through so much together. Three years dating Patrick felt like a lifetime for me.

The sound of a text notification pulled me from my thoughts. I grabbed my phone, expecting a message from Patrick saying he was on his way. Instead, it was a simple ‘running late, be home soon.’ I frowned slightly. Lately, Patrick had been working late more often than usual. He claimed it was for a big project at work, but I couldn’t help feeling a little neglected. Still, I shook off the nagging thought. The trip would fix everything.

An hour passed. Then another. My anticipation turned into irritation as the clock neared 9:30 p.m. I texted Patrick again but received no response. Finally, I decided to distract myself. Changing into my favourite cosy sweater, I settled onto the couch with a glass of wine and a rom-com queued up on the television. Just as I began to relax, my phone buzzed with a call.

It was Patrick. ‘Finally,’ I thought.

“Hey,” I answered, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Where are you?”

“Sorry, babe,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “Work ran late. I’ll be home in half an hour.”

I sighed. “Alright. Drive safe.”

I hung up, fully frustrated with the change of plans. Patrick had been so distracted lately. Maybe it was stress from work, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off. I took another sip of wine, brushing the thought aside. No use jumping to conclusions.

Half an hour later, My restlessness got the better of me. I decided to tidy up Patrick’s home office—a task I usually avoided because he liked to keep things a certain way. As I straightened a stack of papers, I noticed a receipt from my favourite jewellery store tucked under his keyboard. My heart leapt.

‘He’s buying the ring,’ I thought, my earlier annoyance melting away. This was it. The trip was going to be the perfect setting for our engagement. The irony of the receipt was that I'd also gotten a ring for him from the same jewellery store. I was willing to propose first.

Unable to contain my excitement, I decided to surprise him at work. Maybe I could bring him dinner and remind him how much I appreciated his hard work. I grabbed my coat and keys, my earlier irritation replaced with bubbling anticipation.

The drive to Patrick’s office was uneventful, and I found myself rehearsing my lines in the car. “Hey, thought you could use a little break,” I murmured, picturing Patrick’s surprised smile. I was a little nervous but it was okay.

When I arrived, the building was mostly dark except for a few offices still illuminated. I entered, finding my way to Patrick’s floor. The familiar layout was quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights.

As I approached his office, I heard voices—a woman’s laugh followed by Patrick’s deeper tone. My steps faltered. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakably intimate.

My heart pounded as I reached the slightly open door. Peeking through the gap, I saw Patrick leaning against his desk, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. Across from him stood a woman with sleek blonde hair, perched on the edge of his desk, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

I froze. My mind trying to understand the scene in front of me. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe…

But then the woman leaned in, her lips brushing Patrick’s ear as she whispered something that made him laugh softly. Her kisses continued, tracing up to his lips. My breath caught in my throat. The tenderness in his expression was undeniable.

I stepped back, my heel clicking against the tile floor. The sound was small but enough to catch their attention. Patrick turned sharply, his eyes widening when he saw me.

“Amelia,” he said, his voice filled with a mixture of shock and guilt.

The blonde woman straightened, looking at me with mild curiosity as if I were the intruder in this scenario.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, my voice trembling. I wanted to sound strong, but the betrayal was like a physical blow, knocking the air out of my lungs.

Patrick opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence was louder than any explanation he could have offered.

“I see,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I turned on my heel and walked away, my vision blurred by tears I refused to let fall until I was out of sight. Patrick ran after me, begging me to stop. I kept running until I reached my car.

Back in my car, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white. The reality of what I had just witnessed hit me like a tidal wave. The man I had planned my future with, the man I trusted implicitly, had betrayed me.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Patrick: ‘Please, let me explain.’

I let out a bitter laugh, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat. There was nothing left to explain. The perfect life I’d imagined was a lie, and for the first time, I didn't know what to do. I drove straight to our house and packed the little clothes I could stuff into my travelling bag, along with my passport, laptop, and every other important thing I could find. I needed to leave before he came back. I couldn't stand coming close to him again.

As I drove out of the house, I made a mental note to book an early flight to the Maldives.