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.
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.
Continue reading on the next page 👇
