When Mia discovered her husband in bed with her own mother on Christmas Eve, she expected her family to rally around her. Instead, they chose the woman who destroyed her marriage. But Mia wasn’t the type to crumble quietly.
What she did next would tear apart everything they thought they knew.
For years, I believed I had built the family I dreamed of when I was a little girl.
A loving husband who remembered my coffee order, a stable home with throw pillows I actually picked out myself, and holiday traditions that made me feel like I belonged somewhere.
Christmas Eve was always my favorite. The whole house would smell like cinnamon and pine, candles would flicker on every surface, and laughter would spill from room to room like warmth you could touch.
Or so I thought.
That night, everything shattered into pieces so small I didn’t think I’d ever put them back together. We had driven to my parents’ house for the Christmas holidays, just like we did every year.
Adam and I arrived with the trunk packed full of presents, a homemade pecan pie, and matching ugly Christmas sweaters my husband had insisted we wear.
I remember laughing as we walked up the driveway, snowflakes catching in his hair.
“This is going to be perfect,” he said, squeezing my hand. I believed him.
But as the evening wore on, I began to notice small, strange details that didn’t quite fit. Adam kept whispering on his phone in the hallway, his voice low and urgent.
Every time I walked past, he’d snap it shut and smile at me like nothing was wrong.
My mom, Lorraine, would often disappear whenever someone asked for help setting the table or refilling drinks.
She’d slip away without a word, and I’d find myself covering for her. “Mom’s just tired,” I’d say, forcing a smile.
And then there were the glances.
Adam and my mother kept exchanging these odd, fleeting looks across the room — a nod here, a quick turn of the head there. It made my stomach twist, but I pushed the feeling down.
Holidays were stressful, and people acted weird when they were exhausted or overwhelmed.
I told myself I was reading too much into it.
I was looking for Adam to help me bring the rest of the presents in from the garage when it happened.
I walked past the guest room at the end of the hallway, and I heard a sound that made my heart skip a beat. A soft moan. My mother’s voice.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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