The Trip to Spain
I always thought my life with Mark was perfect. We were happy, everything seemed to be going smoothly. We had our plans: wedding venues, honeymoon destinations—everything was lined up. But then I found something that changed everything. A hotel reservation for two in Spain. And that wasn’t the worst part. As I dug deeper, I realized there was a woman involved. I wasn’t just heartbroken; I was furious.
I sat on the couch, my mind racing as I stared at the wedding magazines scattered on the coffee table. Just last week, Mark and I had been discussing venues and where we’d go for our honeymoon. It was supposed to be perfect. Supposed to be.
Then, things changed.
“Spain again?” I asked Mark casually when he mentioned his upcoming trip. “Didn’t you just get back?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze shifting away from me. “Work, babe. You know how it is.” He barely met my eyes as he said it, his voice lacking its usual conviction.
That night, he flew out, and I was left behind. At first, I tried to distract myself with random tasks. But it didn’t take long for boredom to set in.
Before, when Mark was on these trips, we’d talk all the time—five, six calls a day. But now, the calls were becoming fewer, shorter. I found myself staring at my phone, willing it to ring. Nothing.
That evening, as I was cleaning out my inbox, I came across the reservation. A hotel in Spain for two. Champagne and strawberries.
The moment I saw it, my heart dropped. I had a severe allergy to strawberries. This wasn’t just an innocent mistake—it was deliberate. I wasn’t just angry; I was devastated. He was with someone else. Maybe right now, that woman was sitting next to him, enjoying those strawberries, while I sat here clueless.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I whispered to myself, pacing in circles, “No. This can’t be real.”
I gripped my phone tighter, almost afraid to let go. But I had to know more. I dialed Claire, my best friend, who was always my rock.
“Breathe, Rebecca,” Claire said when she picked up, but her voice cracked with worry.
“No, I need to get to Spain,” I replied. My voice trembled with every word, “I need to see this for myself. I need to know if this is real.”
She hesitated. “But you hate flying.”
“Watching my life fall apart here… that’s worse than any flight.”
I didn’t give her a chance to argue. I booked the next flight.
The flight to Spain was a nightmare from the start. Cramped seats, a stuffy cabin, and my mind racing with thoughts of what awaited me. What if Mark was truly sorry? What if he begged for forgiveness? Or worse—what if he didn’t care at all?
I tried to distract myself by staring out the window. Suddenly, something cold splashed onto my lap. I looked down to see tomato juice soaking into my jeans. “Perfect,” I muttered. This was just the kind of day I was having.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The man next to me, wide-eyed and panicked, scrambled for napkins. “I swear I didn’t mean to… I’m just really clumsy.”
“It’s fine,” I muttered, wiping at the stain. “It’s just… it’s one of those days.”
“Let me make it up to you,” he offered with a nervous laugh. “How about I buy us a drink? Unless you want to sit in awkward silence for the rest of the flight with juice all over your lap?”
Despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure. Why not? Maybe a drink will save this flight.”
“I’m Daniel,” he said, offering a hand with a sheepish grin. “And I promise, I’m usually much better with tomato juice.”
“I’m Rebecca. And don’t worry, this isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me today.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What else is going on?”
I sighed, taking a sip of my drink. “I’m on my way to Spain to confront my fiancé. He’s… probably cheating on me.”
His eyes widened with sympathy. “Ouch. That’s tough.”
“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I found a hotel reservation for two. Champagne, dinner… you know, the works.”
Daniel winced. “I thought spilling juice on you was bad.”
“Honestly, it kind of fits the day I’m having.” I shrugged, though I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me.
“I’m flying to Spain too,” Daniel said, leaning back in his seat. “To see my wife. Who, surprise, might also be cheating on me.”
I blinked, stunned for a moment. “Are you kidding?”
“I wish I was,” Daniel said, his voice dry. “It’s like some cosmic joke. Two betrayed souls on the same flight.”
We both laughed, shaking our heads at the sheer absurdity of it.
“What are the odds we’d sit next to each other?” I asked.
“Pretty slim, I’d say,” Daniel answered, raising his drink. “To bad luck and strange coincidences?”
“To being covered in tomato juice,” I replied, clinking my glass against his.
When we landed, we were both far too caught up in our personal dramas to remember the tomato juice. As we grabbed our bags, Daniel turned to me.
“So, where are you staying?” he asked.
“It’s here,” I said, pulling up the GPS on my phone.
“Me too,” Daniel replied with a grin. “What are the odds?”
I laughed in disbelief. “Of course you’re staying here. What next? We share the same room?”
As it turned out, we did. The hotel had overbooked, and the harried clerk offered us a shared room as an apology. I was too exhausted to argue, and honestly, I couldn’t stop wondering what might happen next.
“Well, I guess this is just another chapter in this crazy story,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
Daniel smirked. “Looks like fate wants us to be roommates.”
We both agreed to share the room. What were the chances of two people with betrayed hearts ending up in the same place? It was ridiculous, but then again, nothing about today had made sense.
After settling into the room, we both gave each other space, but the tension between us was palpable. Finally, we decided to have lunch on the balcony. I was picking at my salad when something caught my eye. I froze.
There, lounging by the pool, was Mark. But he wasn’t alone. He was with a woman, laughing and swimming with her. And they were… way too close. My heart pounded as I ducked behind the balcony railing.
“That’s him,” I whispered, pointing shakily. “That’s Mark… with her.”
Daniel tensed beside me. Without a word, he dropped down next to me on the balcony floor and peered through the railing. His face was taut with anger.
“That’s… my wife,” Daniel said slowly, his voice thick with disbelief.
I turned to him. “They’re cheating on us… with each other.”
Daniel let out a bitter chuckle. “This is like a bad sitcom.”
We crouched there, watching as Mark and Brenda chatted casually. Brenda was telling Mark about her plan to divorce Daniel and live off his money. To my horror, Mark encouraged her, saying it would be great.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. “Are you rich?”
“Not rich enough for her,” Daniel muttered with a bitter laugh.
We sat there, silent for a moment, letting the insanity of the situation sink in. Then Daniel’s face lit up with an idea.
“Why don’t we give them a taste of their own medicine?” he suggested, a mischievous grin forming on his face.
“What do you mean?” I asked, completely caught off guard.
His grin grew. “Let’s pretend we’re madly in love. Make a scene. We know where they’ll be having dinner tonight. Let’s give them something to talk about.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “That’s… ridiculous.”
“Exactly,” Daniel said. “It’s the perfect kind of ridiculous.”
It sounded childish, and completely out of character for me, but it felt like exactly what I needed. I nodded, even though I was unsure where this would lead.
That evening, I felt more confident than I had in days. Daniel, looking sharp in a suit, and I—well, that red dress was doing things I didn’t know were possible. I hardly recognized myself.
“You ready?” Daniel asked, offering his arm with a playful smirk.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, slipping my arm through his.
We walked into the restaurant like we owned the place. As we passed Mark and Brenda’s table, I saw the shock in their eyes. Mark’s jaw dropped. Brenda froze mid-bite.
I squeezed Daniel’s arm tighter to stop myself from laughing. This was perfect.
We stopped by their table. Daniel leaned in, his voice loud enough for them to hear. “Should we invite them to join us for dinner? After all, it’s such a small world.”
Mark and Brenda exchanged awkward glances before waving at us reluctantly. The rest of the dinner was the most awkward, but oddly satisfying, meal I’d ever had.
“So, Mark, Brenda… how long have you two been enjoying Spain?” Daniel asked casually.
“A few days,” Mark muttered, clearly uncomfortable. “Just a… spontaneous trip.”
Daniel didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, spontaneous! We should try that sometime, right, darling?”
I smiled sweetly, watching Mark’s face turn red. “Absolutely. Spontaneity is everything. Though, I’m not sure we could top your getaway.”
Brenda barely spoke, and Mark was shifting in his seat. But then Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
“Brenda,” he said with a dramatic pause, “I was planning to give you these. But I think they’ll look much better on my dear friend here.”
He opened the box to reveal a stunning pair of diamond earrings. Brenda’s face went pale.
“You’ll never see a dime of my money,” Daniel continued, his voice turning serious. “And as for everything else… well, I think we both know where we stand.”
He glanced at me, giving me a playful wink. “Shall we, darling? We have a reservation at a much better place.”
With that, we strolled out, heads held high, arms linked. It wasn’t the ending I expected when I first boarded that flight to Spain, but as I walked away from the wreckage of my past, I realized I’d found something even more important than revenge.
I found myself.
