Signs Left Behind
Chapter 14 - Secrets and Truth
Isabel had already made it through half of her workday with a smile on her face, reminiscing about the night she had spent with him, the words they had exchanged, and the kisses that were stolen at the first light of dawn.
She still couldn't believe that, after so long, her heart had finally started beating for someone again.
The sun was shining brightly, the cheerful laughter of children filled the air, and her happiness was impossible to contain.
Even the nuns had noticed her sudden change, smiling at her with curiosity and kindness.
That morning, Matthew had left early, leaving behind the scent of him on the white sheets and a note with a small pink flower picked from the garden. A tiny Madagascar periwinkle.
"My sweet Isabel, I wish you a wonderful day. Give the children a kiss. Yours, Matthew."
That message held all the tenderness of a man who, despite his past, his fears, and the wounds he had accumulated over time, had humbly opened his heart to her, making everything feel even more meaningful.
"I think this has become my new favorite flower," she replied, sending him a photo of the note and the flower resting in her hand.
Matthew’s day had been a whirlwind. From the moment he arrived at the clinic, an endless stream of emergencies had kept him occupied, though his mind constantly wandered back to the night before and the discovery that could not only change the course of their relationship but also reopen a deep wound in Isabel—one she had only just begun to heal from.
He had spent the entire day drowning in doubts and uncertainties about what the right thing to do was. Tell her the truth and risk hurting her, dragging her back into the darkness she had fought so hard to escape? Should he tell her that the mother she had never truly gotten the chance to see again had passed away from a terrible illness?
He felt anger toward Eleanor for placing this burden on him, for making him the messenger of such painful news. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t comprehend the way fate had unfolded. He thought of the story of the red thread—how everything could be connected in ways that logic could not explain, only the heart.
A mother’s heart that had wanted to send a message to the daughter she had left behind. And she had chosen him to deliver it in a way that defied all understanding.
What should have been the most beautiful night of his life had left him with an open wound and a choice to make. Tell Isabel the truth or spare her from this pain, now that nothing can be changed?
The meeting on the beach at sunset was drawing closer, and he still hadn’t decided. Anxiety consumed him, but the desire to see her again was stronger than anything else. And so, he chose not to run away, as he usually did. He felt the weight of the promise he had made to Isabel and the responsibility of fate, which had led him so far from home, only to find himself standing before the daughter of his late friend.
As the sun began to set on the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and gold, his heartbeat quickened.
As he walked toward the beach, each step on the sand felt heavier, every breath shorter. Would Isabel already be waiting for him? And, most importantly, what would he see in her eyes when she looked at him?
When he finally saw her standing by the shore, her hair tousled by the sea breeze and her gaze lost in the waves, he felt a knot tightening in his stomach. Isabel turned, and their eyes met. For a moment, time seemed to stop.
She smiled at him, a smile that lit up her face as if nothing in the world could break the spell of that moment. Her eyes shone with a light that Matthew couldn’t hold for too long, because deep down, he knew he was about to betray her trust.
But for now, he chose to live in the moment, to let himself be enveloped by the warmth of her gaze and the sweetness of her voice.
Isabel slowly approached, the sand shifting beneath their feet as the waves gently kissed the shore. She wore a flowing evening dress in a deep shade of blue, one that highlighted the color of her eyes and the delicate contours of her body.
When she finally stood before him, she said nothing. Instead, she placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which was pounding wildly. Matthew held his breath, afraid that she might feel him tremble inside.
Then, in an instinctive gesture, Isabel wrapped her arms around him, resting her face against his neck, inhaling his scent as if she wanted to imprint that moment in her memory.
He embraced her tightly, surrendering to the warmth of her body, to the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.
The world around them ceased to exist.
"I missed you," Isabel whispered against his chest.
Matthew closed his eyes. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to tell her the truth. Not when everything felt so perfect.
Their hands intertwined, their breaths blended, and their lips met in a kiss that tasted of salt and unspoken promises. The wind played with Isabel’s hair as she smiled again, happy, unaware of the burden Matthew carried inside him.
After that long embrace on the beach, Isabel took his hand and led him along the shore. The sea breeze caressed their faces while the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.
"I feel like drinking something cold," she said, laughing, squeezing his hand. "Come with me?"
Matthew nodded without hesitation. Anything to prolong this moment, to delay the choice that tormented him.
They walked toward a small beachside bar, one of those places with dim lights, soft jazz music, and a relaxed atmosphere. They found a hammock large enough for both of them, suspended between two wooden beams, with colorful cushions.
Isabel lay down first, with the ease of someone who feels at home. Matthew followed, a little tenser, but when she rested her head on his shoulder, every bit of tension melted away.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked with a hint of mischief, as if she was about to share a secret.
He smiled, running his fingers through her hair.
"The day you arrived at the orphanage, I didn’t expect to meet such a beautiful and charming doctor," Isabel said, laughing lightly. "You walked in with your messy blond hair, tousled by the wind, and your striking green eyes. Who would have thought? But then, you started acting strange. Your distant, cold attitude got on my nerves. I watched you, and I couldn’t understand why you avoided me at all costs. But deep down, I knew it was just a mask. I was determined to take it off. And when you took care of me, I finally saw it. The real you. The man you are today—kind and caring."
Matthew shook his head, caught off guard by her empathy and the way she always saw the best in people. He was also grateful that she hadn’t given up on him.
"That day at the orphanage wasn’t the first time I laid eyes on you," he admitted.
Isabel looked up at him, curious.
Matthew touched the tip of her nose with his finger before giving her a small kiss.
"The day I arrived in Moalboal, I was sitting in a café on the main street, having breakfast. I looked outside and saw you, surrounded by a group of children. You were beautiful, with your long skirt flowing in the breeze and your hair shining in the sunlight. I was exhausted from the journey and thought you were a vision. I wanted to call you to ask where you came from, but back then, I was still too closed off. And so I let the moment pass. Until an English girl, sweet as honey and just a little too curious, completely bewitched me."
Isabel, pleased, held him tightly.
"Do you believe in destiny?" she asked sincerely.
He hesitated. "I don’t know," he finally replied. "Sometimes I do. Other times, I think it’s just a series of coincidences."
Isabel smiled softly, intertwining her fingers with his. "I do. I believe some people are meant to find each other, no matter what," she laughed knowingly to tease him.
Matthew kissed her forehead, her lips, and her hands as she closed her eyes dreamily in his arms.
The evening continued with them sharing stories from the past—Matthew’s year as a backpacker and Isabel’s passion for creating photo albums. Question after question, laughter and embraces followed one another as they gradually uncovered pieces of each other, hour after hour.
As the night gently drifted away and the sea continued to sing its timeless melody in the background, Matthew momentarily forgot his secret. He became more and more convinced that perhaps this was his destiny. That Eleanor sent him here to meet, to know, and to fall hopelessly in love as he never did before.
He was saved by both of them, and now that he had finally found Isabel, he could no longer imagine his life without her.