A New Year’s Surprise
Emily hurried home, ignoring the icy pavement beneath her feet. And why wouldn’t she? In her handbag were two plane tickets. A booked hotel room awaited them in the south. They’d dreamed for years of spending New Year’s by the sea—somewhere warm, carefree. No slaving over a stove, just relaxation, swimming in the pool. A proper holiday, like something out of a fairy tale.
But something always got in the way. Sometimes it was money—they were saving for their first mortgage payment. Other times, life just got too hectic, and they forgot to book the tickets or reserve the hotel in time.
Now they had their own flat, with only a small amount left to pay. It was time to start thinking about children. If they didn’t go now, with a baby on the way, that dream would stay out of reach for years. So Emily decided to make this her New Year’s surprise for James.
Of course, her mother-in-law would have plenty to say—how Emily was wasting money on nonsense, how the seaside was pointless in winter. What about them? Why hadn’t she consulted them first? There’d be grievances, accusations, no doubt. The woman already disliked her; this would only make things worse. Still, it wasn’t the end of the world. She’d survive the fallout. And James? He’d be thrilled.
If she’d asked for advice, her mother-in-law would’ve kicked up such a fuss the surprise would’ve been ruined. They’d never have gone. It never crossed Emily’s mind that James might dislike the gift or have other plans. He’d always said he hated the idea of stuffing themselves with salads in front of the telly all night. He preferred parties, laughter, good company.
The envelope with the tickets had been hidden in her desk drawer at work. Today, she’d finally brought it home. They were due to fly in two days.
Once inside, she tucked the envelope under the Christmas tree where James would spot it straight away. She changed, then started dinner, ears pricked for the sound of the front door. Every few minutes, she checked the clock.
By half past eight, she was restless. The food had gone cold, and still no James. Her mood plummeted. She called him repeatedly, but his phone was switched off. Pacing the flat, she peered out the window, hoping to see his car pull up. Dark thoughts crept in, each worse than the last. She redialled, but the automated voice only replied, “The number you have called is unavailable.”
She told herself he’d gone out with mates—but why turn off his phone? Why no warning?
She even stepped into the hallway twice. Once, years ago, her dad had come home blind drunk. His friends, knowing her mum’s temper, left him propped against the door and fled. Lucky the neighbour found him and knocked.
No one waited outside now. The stairwell was silent. The tickets, the surprise—all forgotten. She just wanted him safe.
Sleep was out of the question. She curled up on the sofa, legs tucked under her, ready to wait all night. Then the phone rang, sharp in the quiet. She jolted, grabbed it, leapt up.
“James? Where are you? What’s happened?” she demanded.
“Nothing’s happened,” came a woman’s voice, slow and thick as honey. Stunned, Emily pulled the phone away, checked the screen—it was James’s number. “Your James is asleep. Like a baby,” the voice crooned.
“Where? Why? Who is this?” Emily asked, already dreading the answer.
A friend had once warned her about surprises. Her sister had gifted her husband a couples’ spa pass. They’d gone a few times, then work piled up, and they stopped. One day, the sister went alone, only to find her membership card missing. The receptionist said it had been swiped half an hour earlier. Moments later, her husband strolled out arm-in-arm with another woman. That was how she’d found out.
The memory flashed through Emily’s mind just as the voice spoke again.
“He’s at my place. Alive and well, don’t worry. Guess who I am? He loves me. Don’t wait up. We’ve been seeing each other six months. He pitied you, didn’t have the heart to say. Thought I’d help.” The line went dead.
Emily sank onto the sofa, phone limp in her hand. The screen darkened, just like her hopes, the joy of New Year’s, the dream holiday. Everything faded but the hurt, the unbearable ache.
She’d heard stories like this, read them online. Never imagined it would happen to them. Six years together—was that enough to grow tired of someone? It couldn’t be real. He’d walk in any second and say it was a joke.
She called again. His phone was off. She pictured a blonde in a silk robe, plucking his mobile from his pocket, locking herself in the loo to make the call. She could see her face—glossy, perfect, like those influencers online. Lips swollen from kisses, stretched in a smug smile.
“Six months. Since July. And I was planning this surprise all along.” What stung more? The betrayal, or the wasted effort?
The forgotten envelope still lay beneath the tree. Oddly, she didn’t cry. Her mind raced, but every thought circled the same questions: What now? How do I move on? Is moving on even worth it?
She curled tighter on the sofa, drifting into fitful sleep, only to jolt awake, remember, and spiral again.
The key turned in the lock. Light spilled under the door. The rustle of a coat. Any second, he’d explain. The call had been a nightmare. If only.
His footsteps halted by the sofa.
“I’m awake,” Emily said. “Working late? Why’d you switch off your phone? What if something had happened to me—or your parents? You can’t just disappear.”
“The battery died,” James said carefully.
Emily grabbed her phone, pulled up the call log, turned the screen to him.
“Look. You called me at half twelve. Explain that. No, don’t. Your girlfriend already did. She said you’ve loved her for six months. That you pitied me.”
“Emily, I’m sorry—”
“No. You don’t get to say that.” Her voice was eerily calm, but she felt it—the tremor inside, something waking, straining to break free. “Leave.”
James sat beside her, tried to pull her close.
“Don’t touch me! Go. Just go!” Her voice rose, fractured into a scream. He grabbed her anyway. She thrashed, then crumpled, sobbing.
He left.
For a long while, Emily sat frozen. Then she reached for the envelope, ready to rip it—but stopped. She pulled out the tickets. December 30th. The time. The destination.
Suddenly, she saw her lifeline. She’d go alone. The hotel promised festivities, all-night entertainment. The second ticket? She’d sell it. Someone might need it.
She rang her mum, said she and James were flying south, back in a week. Then she packed.
The whole way to the airport, she doubted she’d actually board. But moving felt better than waiting. The illusion of purpose kept the pain at bay.
Even on the plane, it didn’t feel real—until the coast emerged beneath the clouds, dotted with resorts. Should she head straight to the beach or check in first? “Beach first,” she decided.
No one else at the hotel was alone. At first, she thought the pale woman in a headscarf might be—”chemo,” Emily guessed—but then a younger man helped her up, led her away. They often passed on the promenade, exchanged nods. Too young to be her husband—her son, then.
One day, she found him alone by the water.
“Where’s your mum?”
“Not feeling well.”
Up close, he looked younger than thirty. They got talking. Andrew said his wife had left two years ago, unwilling to care for his sick mother.
The beach air was meant to help. Doctors had approved. But it hadn’t been enough.
They strolled together most evenings after that, while his mother rested. Emily flew home first. They swapped numbers.
Surprisingly, she was okay. The dread had been worse than the reality. She called her mum, said she’d landed.
“What happened? James phoned, asking where you were. You said you were going together. Did you argue?”
“Later, Mum. I’ll come by soon, explain. I’m fine.”
At the flat, she found traces of James—some of his things gone, not all. Did he think he could come back? She turned on her phone, and it rang instantly. He begged to meet, to talk.
“No. I’m filing for divorce.”
In March, Andrew called.
“Sorry I didn’t ring sooner. Mum died two weeks ago. I’ve thought of you often. Didn’t call because… I had nothing to offer.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m free. I can offer you everything.She took a deep breath, smiled into the phone, and said, “Let’s meet for coffee and see where the tide takes us.”
