When the idea of a holiday with my fiancé Matt and his twin daughters came up, I thought it was the beginning of a beautiful chapter. Little did I know, by the time I returned from the pool, everything would change due to a puzzling note he left behind. Once back home, more surprising revelations were waiting for me.
Matt and I met three years ago at a charity event. His charisma and the way he cherished his daughters captivated me. Ella and Sophie, his five-year-old twins, were delightful and well-mannered, a testament to Matt’s devotion as a father.
Tragically, their mother had passed away when the girls were only a year old. Matt had stepped up, taking on both parenting roles. Initially, I lacked experience with children, but their sweet stories from school drew me in, and before I knew it, I was deeply attached to them.
One evening, Matt arrived at my apartment with the girls, holding glitter-covered cards they had made for me.
“We made this for you,” Ella said, handing me the card with a smile. Inside, it read, “Thank you for being part of our family.”
His words left me speechless. My past was filled with men who shied away from commitment, leading to awkward dates and no signs of settling down. But as I gazed into Matt’s eyes and the bright smiles of his daughters, I felt like I had found the family I’d always wanted.
When Matt proposed after a dinner the girls helped prepare a week later, my answer was an enthusiastic yes, without a second thought. Everything seemed to be aligning perfectly, and I was eager to embark on our life together. I soon moved in, and we began planning our wedding — I was convinced about the flowers, the dress, the girls’ outfits, and the venue. Being a type-A personality, I was immersed in all the details. However, as the months went by, Matt began feeling the stress.
“Why don’t we take a break before the wedding chaos kicks in?” Matt proposed one night. “A family vacation, just the four of us. A nice little break before the madness.”
Despite my busy schedule with wedding arrangements and work, I agreed. A break was needed, so we planned a trip to a serene island resort.
The initial days were idyllic. Ella and Sophie’s laughter as they splashed in the pool was infectious, and watching them build sandcastles with Matt on the beach filled me with joy.
“Dorothy, look at this!” Sophie exclaimed, showing me a sandcastle adorned with seashells. “Isn’t it just beautiful?”
“It’s perfect,” I replied, capturing the moment on my phone.
Matt came over, dusting off the sand from his hands. “Ice cream, girls?”
“Yes!” they chimed together, running ahead.
Matt wrapped his arm around me. “This was such a good idea. We really needed this.”
I leaned into him, savoring the moment. “Yes, we did.”
The family time seemed perfect, more than many people ever get to experience. But on the third afternoon, everything turned upside down.
That morning, Matt chose to rest in the room while the girls and I headed to the pool. By noon, Matt hadn’t appeared, and he wasn’t answering his phone, filling me with worry. When we returned to our room, I had a strange feeling.
Everything seemed in order as I opened the door, yet my intuition sensed something amiss. That’s when I realized Matt’s luggage was gone.
The room was clean, beds made, clearly visited by housekeeping. I checked the bathroom and found only my things and the girls’ items.
His belongings, including his charger, were missing.
“Dorothy, where’s Dad?” Ella asked, holding my hand.
As my heart pounded, I noticed a note on the nightstand. It read: “I have to disappear. You’ll understand soon.”
Trembling, I sank onto the bed, clutching the note. Disappear? But why? Was he in trouble or were we?
“Dorothy, are you okay?” Sophie asked softly, her eyes wide with concern.
I forced a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, sweetie. Let’s freshen up and get some ice cream downstairs. Dad might be waiting for us there.”
The girls were easily distracted, allowing me to ponder over the situation. Once they were in the bathroom, I tried to calm myself. I approached the bellboy, asking about Matt. He mentioned seeing him leaving with his suitcase in a cab. My attempts to reach him failed; his phone went unanswered.
That evening, exhausted, I eventually got the girls to sleep. I told them a small lie about their dad needing to leave early. It felt like a heavy burden on my chest. Alone on the balcony, I stared at my phone, the silence becoming overbearing.
Matt remained unreachable. Questions flooded my mind — had he decided against our life together? Was he hiding something?
I contacted the front desk again, hoping for news, leaving more messages on his phone. No responses came.
The next morning, with no new developments, my only choice was to pack up and make our way back home.