Just before Christmas, I discovered my husband had lied and was actually in our city

Two days before Christmas, my husband claimed he had to leave town for an urgent work issue. I trusted him without question—after three years of marriage, I believed we shared everything. I had no idea one small lie would crack my world wide open.

That morning, Shawn stood in the kitchen, restless. “Andrea, I need to tell you something,” he said. “My boss called—there’s a serious client issue. I have to fly to Boston tonight.”

“Tonight? On Christmas?” I asked.

He nodded. “I tried to get out of it. But they’re threatening to pull the contract.”

It would be our first Christmas apart. I forced a smile, swallowing disappointment. “When will you be back?”

“After the holidays. We’ll celebrate together then,” he promised.

That evening, as I helped him pack, we laughed over past Christmases—the burned turkey, the ugly sweaters. Yet his apologies felt rehearsed. When he drove away, unease settled over me. Shawn had never given me reason to doubt him.

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