On My Birthday, My Boyfriend Cheated On Me

It was my birthday, so I invited my boyfriend, Harry and my best friend, Rachel, to my rental house to celebrate. The night was filled with laughter, food and drinks. As the evening wore on and the alcohol took effect, I found myself feeling pleasantly tipsy. Deciding it was time to call it a night, I excused myself and went to my bedroom, the world around me slightly spinning.

I was half-asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness when I heard Rachel's soft, hesitant voice cutting through the haze.

"Don't do it here, Rosie is still here," she whispered, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"Don't worry, baby," came Harry's soothing reply. "I locked the bedroom door. She can't get out."

A chill ran down my spine, sobering me slightly. I tried to sit up, but my body felt heavy, the remnants of alcohol still coursing through my veins.

"Woo woo, you're bad..." Rachel's voice was playful now, but I could sense an underlying tension.

Before I could fully comprehend the situation, a terrifying bolt of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a deafening crash of thunder. The storm outside had intensified, rain pelting against the windows with no sign of stopping.

As the water began to seep into the house, pooling around my calves, panic set in. I banged on the door, my voice hoarse as I pleaded, "Let me out, please!"

Just as Harry seemed to relent, Rachel's voice cut through the storm. "Will she already know about us? Just lock her up here..."

Desperation overwhelmed me. I pounded on the door again and again, my cries growing louder, but after a flurry of whispers outside, there was nothing. Silence.

The storm raged on for three agonizing months and I was left alone, trapped in the house as the water rose. Eventually, the flood consumed me and darkness took over.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in my bedroom, the day before my birthday. I jolted upright, my heart pounding as if it might burst from my chest. My lungs felt tight, as though they still held the remnants of the suffocation I had endured.

Was it a dream? But why had it felt so real?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. My mind drifted to Harry. We had met in college and it had been me who pursued him initially. He was my direct senior and the director of our department. When I first arrived at college, overwhelmed and unsure, he had been my guiding light, helping me with my studies and adjusting to campus life. Eventually, our friendship blossomed into romance. Harry was always attentive, never hesitating to give me the stars when I asked for the moon.

But now, doubt crept in. The vividness of the dream, or whatever it was, gnawed at me. Could there be truth in those haunting whispers?

Rachel was a good friend of mine since childhood. We had promised each other in elementary school that we would apply to universities in the same city. We did it. Her school was just across the street from mine, making it easy for us to hang out together, often with Harry. The idea of Harry cheating on Rachel seemed unbelievable to me. Rachel had always looked down on Harry, thinking he wasn't good enough for me because he wasn't as wealthy as my family. When I started dating Harry, she even advised me to break up with him several times.

How could she hook up with Harry?

Despite Rachel's disapproval, my relationship with Harry remained unaffected. If there was any tension between Harry and me, it was because of our differing views on intimacy. Whenever Harry kissed me and wanted to take things further, I would stop him. It wasn't because I didn't love him. I was just conservative, believing that certain things should wait until after marriage. Each time I refused him, Harry would pinch my face and smile helplessly, as if to say he understood and respected my feelings.

Could he have cheated because of this?

From what I knew of Harry, he wasn't that kind of person. He was always patient and considerate. Maybe it was just a strange, unsettling dream, I tried to reassure myself.

However, as I glanced down at my wrist, I noticed that the bracelet my mother had given me had broken. The red sandalwood beads, blessed at the temple after my college entrance exams, were scattered across the floor. That bracelet had never come off, let alone broken.

An ominous feeling settled in my heart. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

"Little fool, it's your birthday tomorrow, didn't you forget it?"

"This handsome guy will show his skills and cook a big table of dishes for you!"

"Do you want to make an appointment with Rachel?"

I stared at the messages, identical to those in my dream. The coincidences were too many, too precise to ignore. I decided to believe the dream.