The Christmas Betrayal: A Seven-Year Lie Unraveled

I begged my wife for seven years, and finally, she agreed to come home with me for Christmas.

My mom happily prepared the turkey, just waiting for Sarah to arrive.

But by midnight, I'd called her dozens of times, and she hadn't picked up.

Just as I was starting to think something terrible had happened and was about to call the police, I saw her latest Snapchat story.

"It's been ages since I've been back home to see my buddies. Tonight, we party till we drop!"

The picture showed her intimately embracing a man.

I recognized him instantly. It was Lucas Thorne, her childhood friend she went back to see every Christmas.

I remembered her throwing a tantrum for no reason a few days ago, complaining that Lucas was taking his wife and kids abroad for Christmas this year.

Suddenly, I understood why she'd suddenly agreed to come home with my parents and me tonight for Christmas.

A pang of pain shot through my chest, but I fought it down and commented on her story.

"Didn't you promise to come home for Christmas?"

The next second, her call came in.

"Lucas just got back from abroad unexpectedly, and it's only for one day. Of course, I have to spend time with him."

Her voice trailed off, then I heard muffled kissing sounds through the receiver.

A chorus of teasing laughter erupted in the background. I clutched my phone tightly and silently hung up.

If she didn't want to come home, then she shouldn't expect to step foot in my house again.

Looking at the endless call log on my phone, I just felt ridiculous.

I typed out a message to her: "Since you say this isn't your home, let's get a divorce."

My finger hovered over the send button for a few seconds, but I finally pressed it.

Watching the message deliver, the seven years of frustration weighing on my heart suddenly lifted.

The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing.

As soon as I answered, Sarah's voice, thick with a hangover and anger, blasted through.

"Leo Knight, it's Christmas, of all days! What are you making a scene about now?"

"It's not like I did anything more than go out for a few drinks. Do you really have to bring up something as heavy as divorce on Christmas?"

"I'm telling you, I'm not divorcing you. And don't be so petty. Lucas's wife never makes a fuss with him."

"Besides, didn't I explain it to you last night? Lucas is only back from abroad for one day. I don't get to see him any other time. What could we possibly be doing?"

"You're just overthinking things, I'm telling you..." I didn't listen to her lengthy explanations, just hung up and got out of bed.

Was I overthinking?

Every Christmas, she'd find all sorts of excuses not to spend it with me.

"Our old family home is too run-down."

"My parents want me this year."

"I absolutely have to go back and see my friends this year."

...

To accommodate her, I'd gone back to her parents' place with her every year for the holidays, leaving my own parents to celebrate alone.

But every year, she'd leave me by myself at her parents' house.

She'd go out to parties alone.

Claiming she was afraid I wouldn't get along with her friends.

There was even one time I waited for her until three in the morning.

I kept calling and texting, but got no response.

Worried something had happened, I sent her a message saying I was coming to look for her.

But just as I stepped out, I ran into Lucas.

He was carrying my drunken wife in his arms. "I was worried Sarah was being plied with too much alcohol, so I brought her back first."

He helped her into my arms, but she clung tightly to him, refusing to let go.

He had to coax her repeatedly before she finally released him.

I never imagined that the next day, she'd chew me out.

"Who told you to interfere? Why were you rushing me? What kind of face did I have left in front of my friends?"

"And making Lucas bring me back? Did you want him to freeze?"

Now I realize that my going to look for her that night was nothing but an interruption to them, which was why she was so furious.

I never thought this year she'd be so blatant.

She just ditched me directly, ran into Lucas's arms, and left my entire family waiting for her.

And even made me listen to them flirting.

Perhaps she'd been like this for seven years; this year, she was just too lazy to even find an excuse.

A call from an unknown number pulled me out of my thoughts.

I answered, and an unfamiliar woman's voice spoke.

"Are you Sarah Miller's husband?"

"Yes."

"I'm Chloe Thorne, Lucas's wife. Let's talk."

"Lucas hasn't had Christmas dinner at home a single time since we got married."

I listened to Chloe recount experiences so similar to my own.

I couldn't help but ask, "Were you planning to go abroad for Christmas this year?"

"Not exactly." She paused, then added, "But every year as Christmas approaches, Lucas buys flights abroad, only to cancel them later."

"Why?"

Chloe was silent for a moment before speaking. "He claimed clients from abroad wanted to celebrate here, so he'd cancel his plans."

"So, he said his Christmas dinners were always with clients."

I suddenly remembered that every year after Christmas, Sarah would ask me to invest in certain projects.

I asked Chloe what those projects were.

I opened Sarah's laptop and cross-referenced them, only to find they were all the same.

"So, we've both been in the dark," Chloe said calmly.

"How did you find out?" I couldn't help but be curious.

She gave a faint smile. "Naturally, I looked into those projects he mentioned and found your wife's name."

"Then, looking through his PayPal transaction history, I saw their chat messages in the memo field."

"That's how I knew they were meeting up again this year."

"So, you called me because you're planning...?" I idly played with my mouse, listening intently.

"A partnership. We both get what we need."

"Then, it's a pleasure doing business with you."

After hanging up, I copied all the project files from Sarah's laptop.

As I was checking for anything I might have missed, I noticed a huge file.

I clicked on it, and it was full of nested folders.

I tried opening them one by one, finally finding a locked file.

I tried many passwords, but none worked.

Just as I was about to give up and exit the folder,

I noticed her laptop wallpaper.

In the middle of a large heart, there was a prominent string of letters and numbers:

'S520L'

I'd accidentally glimpsed her laptop once before, and she'd frantically covered it up.

I thought she was just being shy.

After all, I was foolish enough to believe this string of letters and numbers were the capitalized initials of our two names.

But I never thought Lucas's initial would also be 'L'.

I quickly typed in the password, and sure enough, it opened.

I gave a bitter laugh internally.

Even though I knew what would be inside, and I told myself I'd let her go,

seeing her and Lucas's records, I couldn't stop the pain and hatred.

The records were dense with details, big and small.

Seven subfolders, one for each of the seven years.

Though each year comprised only a few days, they took up a full 10GB.

Year one: "Even though I married a man I didn't love, I still keep the most important place in my heart for you. I'll come back to be with you every Christmas. Love you, Lucas."

Year two: "I hate Leo's touch. Only these few days at Christmas are when I truly feel comfortable, all thanks to Lucas."

Year three: "Leo was such a bother looking for me, forcing Lucas to take me home and wasting a night of intimacy with Lucas."

...

I scrolled further and further, each entry more explicit.

It felt like I was drowning in a river, unable to breathe.

The last entry was from the day she abandoned me to go find Lucas alone.

Sarah was celebrating.

"Lucas really isn't going abroad?!"

"Good thing I found someone to cover my shift, otherwise I would have missed Lucas's party."

"A six-hour drive is nothing, it's all worth it for Lucas."

"No need to tell Leo, I didn't want him to come with me anyway; he'd just get in our way."

There were also a few unmentionable selfies she'd taken.

I clutched the mouse, blood draining from my face, my grip so tight I thought it would shatter.

Enduring the sharp pain in my heart, I copied and backed up all the evidence.

Just as I was about to grab a glass of water to compose myself,

Sarah's call came in.

"Leo Knight, get in the car right now and bring my laptop over."

I refused her without hesitation.

Our old family home was over 300 miles from her parents' place, a drive of at least six or seven hours.

When I was pursuing Sarah years ago, I ignored my parents' objections, determined to win her over even though she lived far away.

So, I'd always make time and drive to see her.

Whatever she needed, one call from her, and I'd drop everything to go to her.

Everything revolved around her.

Even if she just mentioned wanting an ice cream from the store downstairs.

I'd willingly drive six hours to her place to buy it for her.

Even if she took only one bite and threw it away, as long as she needed me, I had no complaints.

Because I always believed that the woman who actively helped me to the hospital during my most vulnerable moment after a car accident must be kind and wonderful.

From then on, I set my sights on her and pursued her relentlessly.

For so many years, my kindness to her had become a habit.

And she, naturally, had started taking these habits for granted as things I was supposed to do.

So, she never considered how exhausted I'd be from the road, just like she'd tirelessly chase after Lucas.

Through the receiver, my wife's impatient voice came through.

"Are you telling me I can't even tell you what to do anymore?"

"If you need it, you can come get it yourself," I said, my voice flat.

She exploded like a lit firecracker. "I'll come get it? You know how far our old family home is from here, don't you? Are you trying to kill me with exhaustion?"

"Oh, so you know what exhaustion feels like? You didn't seem tired driving to meet Lucas."

The other side fell silent for a moment, then she immediately hung up.

I knew she wanted the laptop, no doubt to prepare Lucas's contracts.

It was even highly likely that Lucas was doing the contracts on her laptop.

After all, Sarah rarely dealt with company projects herself; even though she was in the industry, she didn't understand much. So it had to be Lucas handling them.

I never thought that her asking me to bring her laptop home early this year would lead me to discover all this.

But it was also possible she was afraid I'd discover the secrets on her laptop.

That evening, my parents and I were watching a Christmas special.

Sarah's voice boomed from the doorway.

She stormed in, full of anger, towards me. "Where's my laptop? Where did you put it?"

I was somewhat surprised she'd actually driven all that way back.

Before I could speak, a male voice behind her piped up.

"Sarah, no wonder you never want to spend Christmas here. If it were me, I wouldn't either. It's so primitive."

Lucas stood there with his hands in his pockets, glancing around with a look of disdain.

My face instantly darkened.

Our old family home wasn't designed in a modern style; much of it retained its original, antique charm.

But the furniture in the house consisted of priceless antique pieces.

In Sarah's eyes, however, they were just worthless old junk.

Seeing I didn't respond, Sarah felt embarrassed and stepped forward, tugging at my arm.

"I'm talking to you! Did you hear me?"

I scoffed, shaking off her hand. "Not only did I hear you, I saw you."

My eyes fixed on Lucas.

Seeing the hostility in my gaze, Sarah immediately stepped in front of him.

"Lucas came because he was worried about me coming back alone. He's just here to keep me company."

"I also wanted to introduce you. He was the manager for all those projects we partnered on before. You can talk to him about investment opportunities."

I didn't respond directly, just sat on the couch, not even raising my head.

"You came back and said all that nonsense. Did you even say hello to my parents?"

She froze, only then noticing my parents sitting beside me.

This was only her second time meeting my parents.

Sarah reluctantly turned her face, glanced at Lucas,

and mumbled a "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Knight" to my parents.

My parents' happy faces instantly stiffened.

We had been married for seven years.

She had only addressed my parents as "Mr. and Mrs. Knight" twice.

Other times, she simply demanded money from my parents without any form of address.

I scoffed, looking at her with cold eyes. "If you don't want to call them Mom and Dad, then don't."

She thought I was indulging her yet again, and a triumphant smile bloomed on her face.

But she didn't expect me to take the divorce papers from the cabinet and hand them to her.

"They're not your parents, and this isn't your home. Sign them."