Iced Heart Found Love Beneath The Waves

The next day Tyler’s words still echoing in my ears.

Don’t propose tonight. You need to know something first.

I sat at the kitchen counter, staring down at the phone in my hand as if it might burn me. The velvet box sat in my other palm, heavier than it had ever felt. Two weights—one promising a future I’d always dreamed of, the other dragging me into an abyss I didn’t want to face.

I snapped the box shut and slid it into my pocket.

She padded over, wrapping her arms around me from behind, resting her cheek between my shoulder blades. “You should be exhausted after lt. Three-time champion. You were incredible.”

I forced a smile she couldn’t see. “Thanks.”

She kissed the back of my neck. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, too quickly.

Her embrace lingered for a moment longer, then she pulled away, walking toward the fridge. “You want clubhouse? I can make us in a bit.” I watched her move around the kitchen with effortless familiarity, humming under her breath as if the world were perfectly in place.

For years, I had trusted that ease, taken comfort in it.

Now, Tyler’s words gnawed at me, turning every glance, every gesture, every smile into a question mark.

Was she mine?

Or had she already given herself to someone else?

And worse—

to him.

--

By late morning, the penthouse was bright with sunlight.

Heiley curled up on the couch, scrolling her phone.

I lingered in the hallway, unseen, my eyes fixed on her. She laughed softly at something on her screen, her lips curving, the kind of smile she used to give me when I said something dumb.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked, sharper than I meant.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, then softening. “Just Cara. You know, my college friend? She’s asking about last night’s game.”

“Right.”

She tilted her head. “Why do you sound suspicious?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t.”

“You do.” Her smile faded as she studied me. “What’s going on, Drake?”

I opened my mouth, the truth on the tip of my tongue—Tyler’s warning, my fear clawing at me—but the words died. If she denied it, if she looked me in the eye and swore she hadn’t betrayed me, I knew I would believe her. I always had.

I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to.

But then her phone buzzed against the coffee table.

She glanced at it

—too quickly, too carefully

—before sliding it face down without answering.

Something inside me snapped.

---

That evening, the tension between us was thick, invisible threads pulling me apart.

She cooked dinner, chatting about wedding venues she’d seen on social media, friends who were already planning trips to Europe this summer. I nodded, smiled, gave half-answers. Inside, my thoughts churned like a storm.

When she leaned across the table to refill my glass, her phone buzzed again.

Same quick glance. Same face-down dismissal.

My jaw tightened. “Who keeps calling?”

She froze for a fraction of a second, then forced a casual laugh. “Nobody important.”

“Then why not answer?”

Her eyes flicked to mine, a flicker of irritation. “Because I’m with you. Isn’t that enough?”

The words stung. They should have soothed me, but instead they felt rehearsed, like lines from a script.

I pushed my plate away, appetite gone. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Drake—”

I didn’t let her finish. I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door behind me, heart pounding.

The city was loud, neon buzzing, cars honking, strangers moving in waves around me.

But I barely heard any of it. My mind replayed every moment of the day—Tyler’s warning,

Heiley’s quick glances at her phone, the too-perfect trip, the practiced excuses. I found myself wandering aimlessly until I stopped at the reflection of a jewelry store window.

The engagement ring displays glimmered under soft light, mocking me. I had already bought the perfect one, tucked into a velvet box back at the penthouse. The ring that was supposed to symbolize forever.

Now it felt like a joke.

My phone buzzed. A message from Tyler.

Did you ask her?

I typed back,

Not yet.

Seconds later, another message:

You need to know, Drake. Don’t let her play you.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, chest tight with rage and despair.

When I returned home, Heiley was on the balcony, phone pressed to her ear. She turned quickly when she saw me, slipping it into her pocket.

“You’re back,” she said, voice too bright. “I was just talking to Cara again. She—”

“Stop,” I said, my voice low, dangerous even to my own ears.

Her smile faltered. “Stop what?”

“Lying.”

She froze, color draining from her face. I stepped closer, eyes locked on hers.

“Who keeps calling you? Who’s on the other end of that phone?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Her gaze darted away, then back.

“Drake, you’re tired. You’re imagining—”

“Don’t.” My voice cracked. “Don’t you dare gaslight me. Tell me the truth.”

The silence between us stretched, heavy and suffocating.

For the first time, she looked like a stranger.

Finally, she whispered, “I can’t do this right now.”

And she turned, walking inside, shutting the balcony door behind her.

--

I stood there, chest heaving, rage and heartbreak boiling into something uncontrollable. If she wouldn’t tell me the truth, I’d find it myself.

When she went to shower later that night, leaving her phone on the nightstand, I stared at it like it was a bomb. Every nerve in my body screamed not to cross that line, not to become the man who snooped, who dug, who confirmed his worst fears.

But then it buzzed.

A new message lit the screen.

Anderson’s name.

I grabbed the phone. My eyes scanned the text, each word carving into me like blades.

Can’t stop thinking about last week. When can I see you again?

The room spun. My stomach heaved. The walls felt like they were collapsing.

I dropped the phone back onto the table, hands shaking, bile rising in my throat.

Everything Tyler said was true.

Everything I’d built with her—

-all the years, all the loyalty, all the love

—was a lie.

And she was still in the shower, humming, as if she hadn’t just destroyed me.