Victoria found two tickets to the Maldives tucked in her husbands jacket pocket. Her name wasnt on either of them.
She was sorting his laundry when her fingers brushed a stiff piece of paper inside the suit jacket. Pulling it out, she saw an envelope, and inside, two airline tickets to the Maldives. She stared at the documents, heart thudding. The outbound flight was in two weeks; the return in ten days. Business class. The first ticket bore the name Andrew Bennett, her husband. The second read Eleanor Bennett.
A cold shock ran through her. Eleanor? There was no Eleanor Bennett in their family. The name seemed to appear out of thin air, like a misplaced echo. Victoria sank onto the edge of the bed, the tickets clenched in her hand, the weight of twentyfive years of marriage suddenly feeling absurdly light.
Maybe its a mistake? A typo? the thought fluttered, but the second name was printed cleanly, no smudge. Not Victoria Bennett, but Eleanor.
She slipped the tickets back into the envelope, returned it to the jacket pocket, her hands trembling, her throat dry. She needed to steady herself. Andrew would be home from work within the hour, and she had to decide what to do.
She drifted to the kitchen, poured herself a cup of tea, and sat by the window. Over twentyfive years they had weathered everythingspats, misunderstandings, cold spells. But infidelity? The very notion seemed foreign; Andrew had always seemed steady and true. Their bond had begun on a shared love of travel, meeting in a hiking group that was climbing Ben Nevis. Theyd trekked the Lake District, roadtripped through the Yorkshire Dales, and after the wedding kept wandering, though the trips grew rarer as careers and chores took over.
The last holiday together had been three years ago, a twoweek stay in Cornwall. Andrew had promised that the next summer theyd go abroad. Life had kept pulling them aparther urgent project, his endless meetings. Now, it seemed, Andrew was planning a trip to the Maldives, but not with her.
She dialed her old friend Olivia.
Oi, Ollie, can you talk? her voice quivered.
Victoria? Whats wrong? Olivia sensed something wrong immediately.
I found Andrews tickets to the Maldives. Two ticketsone in his name, one in the name Eleanor Bennett.
A pause, then Olivia asked cautiously, Could it be a work trip?
A work trip to the Maldives? Victoria laughed bitterly. And why is there an Eleanor too?
Youre right, thats odd, Olivia agreed. What are you going to do?
I dont know, Victoria sighed. Maybe wait for him to explain? Maybe he has a reason.
What if he doesnt? Olivia replied softly. Youve known each other forever, but people change, especially men at a certain age.
And Andrew isnt that kind of man, Victoria insisted, though doubt flickered inside.
Everyone says that until reality hits, Olivia murmured. Why not just ask him directly? Show the tickets, demand an answer.
And if he lies?
Youve lived with him twentyfive years. Youll know when hes lying, wont you?
Victoria thought about it. After all those years they seemed to read each others moods. Or maybe she only thought so.
Okay, Ill think about it, she said finally. Thanks, Ollie.
She hung up, lingering in her seat, memories swirlingAndrews recent late nights at the office, mysterious weekend appointments, his new crisp shirts, pricey cologne, a trendy haircut. He had never cared for such things before.
She shook herself free of the spiraling thoughts. She needed facts, not fantasies. She walked to Andrews studya room usually untouched, because they respected each others privacy. Today, however, the situation demanded exception.
The study was immaculate; Andrew loved order. She approached his desk, remembered his passwordher wedding day. Opening his email, she felt a surge of guilt, but scanned through. Nothing alarming: work threads, newsletters, a note from an old university mate. She opened his browser history. There, a series of searches: Best Maldives resorts for couples, Romantic getaway Maldives, What to pack for Maldives, and the final one, Gift for beloved woman in Maldives.
Her breath caught. Beloved woman. Not wife.
She closed the browser, turned off the computer, tears pricking her eyes, but she swallowed them down. She could not let Andrew catch her sobbing.
When Andrew returned from work, she had already composed herself and set a modest dinner on the tableher usual comfort dish, mushroom casserole, his favorite. He slipped off his coat, kissed her cheek.
Hey love, whats cooking? he asked, sniffing the air.
Mushroom bake, Victoria replied, trying to keep her voice steady. Your favourite.
Great, Im starving, he said, heading for the bathroom.
They ate, talking about weather, the news, weekend plans. Victoria watched him closely, hunting for a flicker of guilt, but he behaved as usual, chatting about his projects, teasing her about her latest knitting attempts.
What about any upcoming trips? she asked casually, pouring tea.
Nothing firm yet, Andrew shrugged. Why?
Just thought maybe we could get away somewhere together. Its been ages.
He looked at her, a momentary hesitation, then smiled. Yes, its been a while. Well think of something.
Inside, Victoria felt her chest tighten. He was lying, right there, looking her in the eyes.
Where would you like to go? she pressed, trying to sound light. Maybe the sea? The Maldives, for example?
Andrew flinched ever so slightly, a microtremor she caught.
The Maldives? he said, forcing a nervous grin. Why the Maldives?
Just an example, she shrugged. People say its gorgeous. Would you like to go?
Its pricey, probably. And far.
She thought, Lies, lies.
Whos Eleanor? she blurted suddenly.
Andrew froze, tea cup halfway to his lips.
What Eleanor?
Eleanor Bennett. Do you know her?
He opened his mouth, then cut himself off. Victoria, whats happening?
She rose, left the kitchen, fetched the jacket, and placed the envelope with the tickets on the table.
I found this while doing laundry. Explain, please.
Andrew stared at the tickets as if seeing them for the first time, then met her gaze.
This isnt what you think.
What do I think, Andrew? she whispered. That youre flying to the Maldives with another woman? That twentyfive years means nothing to you?
No! he snapped, standing abruptly. Its not like that!
How? she asked, tears finally spilling over. Who is she? Why are you lying?
He stepped toward her, tried to embrace her, but she stepped back.
Dont. Just tell me the truth.
He sighed heavily. Alright. The truth is He stumbled. Damn, its all gone wrong.
Exactly, Victoria said, a bitter smile curving her mouth.
No, you dont get it, Andrew muttered, rubbing his forehead. I need to show you something. Wait a minute.
He left the kitchen, returned with his laptop.
Look, he said, opening his email, this is from the travel agency. He scrolled. I booked these tickets a month agofor us.
Victoria glanced at the screen. The email indeed confirmed two tickets to the Maldives and a hotel reservation for Andrew and Victoria Bennett.
But why is Eleanors name on the ticket?
Andrew scrolled down. Read this: Dear Mr. Bennett, an error occurred when processing the tickets. Your spouses name was entered incorrectly. We apologise. New tickets will be issued within three business days. This message came this morning. I hadnt had a chance to tell you.
Victoria read the note twice, disbelief flickering.
So these tickets are for us? her voice trembled.
Yes, for us! Andrew took her hands. I wanted to surprise you for our silver weddingtwentyfive years. Ive been planning this for months, saving, picking the resort.
But why didnt you tell me? And where did Eleanor come from?
I wanted the surprise, he said sheepishly. The name mixup is a system glitch. Maybe they mixed our booking with another couples.
Victoria stared at him, trying to piece together the surreal puzzle. Had she imagined the whole thing? Had she built a drama out of a simple clerical error?
Im sorry, she whispered. I look foolish.
No, youre not, Andrew brushed her cheek. I understand why it seemed like I could be I mean, with another woman. But Id never
She confessed, Youve changed latelynew shirts, the haircut, staying late. I started to wonder.
I was preparing for the trip, he interrupted. Wanted to look my best beside a beautiful wife. The extra hours were for extra projects to fund the holiday.
Shame flushed her cheeks. How could she have doubted him?
Im sorry, she said, hugging him. Did I ruin everything?
Nothings ruined, he held her tighter. The surprise may have flopped, but well still go together. You still want the Maldives?
With you, anywhere, she smiled through tears.
That night she lay awake, Andrews steady breathing beside her, the ceiling turning into a cloudfilled sky. She thought of how a single doubt could shatter years of trust, how fragile happiness can be, like a house of cards in a windstorm.
In the morning, after Andrew left for work, Victoria called the travel agency. The woman on the line confirmed the error, promised new tickets would be delivered that day by courier.
Do you know where the name Eleanor came from? Victoria asked.
The system sometimes glitches when its overloaded, the operator explained. We had a promotion that day, lots of bookings. Data sometimes overlaps.
Victoria thanked her, hung up, and felt a lightness settle over her. The baseless suspicion lifted like morning fog under the sun.
That evening, Andrew returned to a table set with candles and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.
What are we celebrating? he asked, eyebrows raised.
We, Victoria said simply. And our upcoming Maldives adventure.
He smiled, pulled an envelope from his coat.
By the way, about the triphere are the new tickets, definitely in our names.
Victoria opened them, seeing Andrew Bennett and Victoria Bennett on both.
Thank you, she said, meeting his eyes. For everything.
And thank you, he replied earnestly. For believing in me all these years, and for the next twentyfive.
They clinked glasses. Snow fell outside, blanketing the town in white, while the flat was warm and snug. Victoria thought how lucky she was, how easily happiness could be shattered by a single misstep, yet also how it could be mended.
Two weeks later they boarded a plane to the Maldives. As the aircraft rose, Andrew took Victorias hand.
I was scared youd refuse to go, he admitted. You never like surprises.
I love you, she answered simply. The rest doesnt matter.
He squeezed her hand, and they both gazed out the window at an endless sky, as boundless as the love that had survived a dreamlike night of doubt.
Back at home, in Andrews desk drawer, lay another envelope. Inside rested a diamond ringa gift for their silver wedding, meant to be presented at sunset on a tropical beach. He was certain this time the surprise would land perfectly.
That Maldivian holiday became one of the happiest chapters of their lives. But that, dear reader, is another story.
